Anachronous Inquiry
by Americana Psychotica
Summary: Torn from their own time by uncontrolled blood magic, Harry and Draco's twin children, along with their friend, find themselves in their fathers' fourth year at Hogwarts, and must find their way back - and perhaps find the answer to what caused it all.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Harry Potter - I own the plot to this fan-produced piece and am not gaining any sort of payment for it. **

**A/N-**

I need to stop posting new stories. Yeesh. BUT THIS ONE WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE. I hate the summary, by the way; it's not BAD, but...eh. It bugs me.

SO! Welcome to AI, where Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione's children find themselves in Harry's (and Draco's, and Ron's, and Hermione's...) fourth year after events throw them back in time. There's more plot to that, but hopefully the story explains that...if not, review/PM me and I can go in depth. I don't advise PMing me though - I might spoil it. .

Warnings: Warnings? Um...I'll go with EWE. :) (Best thing in the world, EWE...) Aherm. Timescrewery, alternate realities/time lines (sorta). Slash (Harry and DRACO'S children? Hello, people). NO MPREG; the kids are test tube - er, cauldron - babies.

* * *

><p>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, arguably one of the finest wizarding schools in Europe, had been entertaining relative peace for almost two decades – until now. Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress and Transfiguration professor, had been silently dreading this day from the moment she'd learned that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had announced Harry's 'pregnancy' a little over a decade earlier.<p>

The day Azrael Lucas Malfoy-Potter and his twin, Amelia Lucifer Malfoy-Potter, became first year students at Hogwarts. Even the eldest Weasley child, the unflappable Amber Maria, was slightly on edge as the small army of eleven year olds traipsed into the Great Hall, generally gazing around themselves in awe – save for the pair of blondes near the front of the 'line', both eyeing their surroundings with something akin to the appraising gaze of a buyer – or a Weasley twin. Minerva felt her blood running cold. She cleared her throat and smiled weakly as Neville Longbottom, her Deputy Headmaster and Herbology professor, explained the event of Sorting and began to go down the list.

"Amelia Lucifer Malfoy-Potter." She strode forward with all the determination and boldness of her Gryffindor father and hopped onto the stool, crossing her legs primly. The Hat was gently placed on her head, and Minerva waited with bated breath, when the Hat finally roared, "Slytherin!" The blonde lifted the hat from her head and placed it back in Neville's hands, thanking them both politely before strutting to her seat where the two Zabini children, both third years, made room for the House's new Princess.

"Azrael Lucas Malfoy-Potter." The blonde boy was less forceful in his approach, though his icy green gaze left no doubt that he was just as formidable as his sister. Before the Hat had even rested on his head for a full second, he firmly stated, "I fully expect you to place me in my proper House – that of my twin, Sir Hat." The Hat rasped a laugh at the cheeky statement and burbled, "Slytherin!", following the statement with something that sounded suspiciously like, "Very much Harry Potter's son..."

As if that was a comforting comment.

* * *

><p>The years during the Malfoy-Potter reign (as many referred to them) were a whirlwind, despite the peace resting over the Wizarding World – really, the world at large. However, come fifth year, a violent political climate suddenly erupted into the public eye, the fires very much stoked by an unexpected feud.<p>

Azrael was stowing his Quidditch gear when his sister seemed to materialize beside him, Prophet dangling negligently from slim fingers.

"Do you know what that _vile _man has done?" The blonde male sighed, pushing some of his perpetually messy hair (he blamed this entirely on his father Harry, and told him so often) out of his eyes.

"Which vile man, Lucy? I'm sure Dierele didn't mean it and you'll be back together before you know it."

"I was never _dating _him, and I am _talking _about Ronald Bilius Weasley, you prat!" His playful expression fell away, and his eyes darted to the crushed Prophet in her fist. She held it up, smoothing it a bit before reading aloud.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hope of a Moral Wizarding World? My _arse_; he's a homophobic blight on society and murderer to boot! I cannot believe Father would _ever _have befriended something so filthy! Loathsome weasel..." Azrael gently pried the battered paper from her and read the article himself.

"He's running for _Minister_? But – he has all the intelligence of a troll, and none of their good grace and looks!" Lucifer smothered a giggle.

"I'm sure he would be quite welcome among those of the mountains." The twins fell into step with one another, pressed together as they surveyed the paper's horrific news. Lucy absently chewed her bottom lip, waving her brother's comment about further destroying them away.

"I meant it when I said I cannot believe Father would have befriended him...neither he nor Pater talk about the War, nor their school days." Azrael shrugged, but noticed the sharp light in his sister's eyes and sighed. Where he had gotten the family's Ravenclaw tendencies, and both he and his sister were fiercely loyal in the tradition of Hufflepuff, his sister had gotten the Gryffindor brashness and all of their father's curiosity.

"Well, sister dearest, as we are generally watched like rats by a hawk by Madame Pince, bless her ink stained, shriveled little heart, and cannot without much effort gain access to wartime literature – I would say we have some few, more immediate references at hand." Azrael muffled a chuckle at his sister's gleaming smile.

"I'll speak with dear old Professor Longbottom then – _you _can brave the old lioness's den."

* * *

><p>Professor McGongall looked over her lenses at the composed fifth year before her and sighed, realizing she probably was being influenced by the snoring portrait to her left.<p>

_Leave it to Albus to cause me to act like him from the grave. Infuriating man. _

"How can I assist you, Azrael?" Few in the school referred to either sibling as Malfoy-Potter – she imagined it was Harry's attempt at forcing the staff to act less formally around the students they almost raised.

"Well, Headmistress – and before I make my inquiry, may I say those robes are fantastic, Headmistress? – my sister and I realized today, with that...interesting edition of the Prophet, that we know next to nothing about our fathers' school years. Perhaps you assume I mean to ask about the War, but I understand the subject is deeply personal to many who lived through it, and I am far from crude enough to demand you languish in pain for the pursuit of mere knowledge. I simply wish to know what they were like while they were at Hogwarts – what they did, who their friends were, the like." The Headmistress pursed her lips, eyes narrowing a little at the bland expression on the boy's face.

What was he up to?

* * *

><p>Neville felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and sighed.<p>

"Lucifer, you are not a gargoyle, and furthermore, I must ask you stop harassing my Siberian Horned Lilies – they are very fragile, and quite shy." He heard the soft _whump _as Harry and Draco's daughter leapt from her favorite perch high in the eaves of the greenhouse and turned to see her dusting herself off, smirking. He nodded to a bench, and she sat with little of the grace that afflicted her brother and blonde father.

"Now, what exactly is so desperately important that you had to mimic the behaviours of a spider to get my attention?" She feigned displeasure, then sobered, twisting her tie around her hand and tugging it a little – something she did when nervous, but only when she was comfortable around you generally.

"Well – you heard about the Weas-Weasley running for Minister, I imagine?"

"Who hasn't? I work in a greenhouse, not under a rock, Lucy." The girl wrinkled her nose.

"We – Azrael and I were wondering about...Father and Pater's school years. Azrael's asking the Headmistress, but you're one of Father's oldest friends." The Herbology professor sighed and nodded, sitting next to her.

"What does this have to do with Ron running for Minister of Magic?"

"I don't understand how Father could possibly have befriended him! Everything he stands for is the complete antithesis of our lifestyle, of our very moral code! How could-" She faltered, swallowed, and composed herself, continuing quietly, "How could he betray Father like that?" Neville met the girl's large green eyes and was slightly alarmed by the fierce light in them, before silently chiding himself; if he knew anything about his godchildren, it was that they valued loyalty above almost anything else. He sighed, and leaned back.

"It's a long story." She waved a hand negligently, a small smirk hovering at the edge of her mouth.

"Your last class was an hour ago, and I have a free period before dinner – we have time."

* * *

><p>Azrael was sprawled across one of the deep green couches in their private rooms when she returned several hours after dinner had ended, followed by a pair of house elves bearing trays of food.<p>

"I'm back, and bearing gifts."

"Beware Greeks bearing gifts."

"If we are anything, it is Roman, brother – behave and accept the offering for what it is." She smirked a little, holding up a shimmering vial.

"I do have something else though, courtesy of one meddling portrait and quite a bit of wheedling on my end."

"I do not meddle, my dear girl, but do feel free to ask Minerva to give you access to my memories should you require them." Azrael propped himself up on one elbow and looked over his shoulder at the twinkly-eyed old man beaming down at them from a disgruntled Salazar Slytherin's portrait.

"Having a reunion, are we?" Slytherin groaned and began to leave the portrait, only to run straight into the taller man, who pushed him back into his chair and flung an arm around his shoulders, grinning down at the two Slytherins, who waved.

"Welcome back Godric, Albus. I'm sorry that Gryffindors have invaded, Lord Slytherin." The Founder huffed, but then relaxed a little when Godric squeezed his shoulders and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of his ear. Azrael turned his attention from the portraits to his sister, who was returning their shared Pensieve to its original size. The simple black vessel was inlaid with amethyst eyes and a plea in Latin to Mnemosyne to give them clearest sight. The twins stood on either side of the vessel as Lucifer unstoppered the vial.

"To insight and a new day." Her brother echoed her as she emptied the memory into the Pensieve, and they descended.

* * *

><p>The winter holidays were a welcome reprieve to the two, who found themselves at the center of a painful feud they never could have imagined.<p>

The Weaselys had declared quiet war on them; Amber Maria and her younger brothers, Albus, Caecilius, Damien, and Adrian, had once been rather close to the two Malfoy-Potter children – Adrian and Damien were Ravenclaws, Caecilius and Amber Maria Gryffindors, and Albus a Slytherin. However, their father's sudden campaign against Harry (though he was, at the moment, technically campaigning against 'those leading alternative lifestyles detrimental to the moral health of the Wizarding World') had created an almost visible schism. Albus, the middle child and already ribbed mercilessly for his House, was the most torn – desperately trying to stay on good terms with his father but wanting to maintain his friendship with his two best friends, year mates, and 'godsiblings'. During classes, the Weasleys offered nothing if not censure and disgust to the twins, and studiously ignored them out of class. It had come to hexes several times, especially after Amber Maria had called Azrael a filthy manwhore and accused him of trying to 'seduce' Caecilius. If Minerva had not been coming down the hall at the same instant Lucifer had unleashed the worst bout of hexes one might see that could still be considered legal, the female Weasley might have died.

A slew of lost points and detention after detention had done nothing to cool her fury, and she had publicly snubbed the Weasleys in full earshot of a group of visiting reporters, going so far as to pledge her family against Ronald Weasley by magical oath.

_That _particular stunt warranted a visit from her parents, but instead of Amber Maria getting the satisfaction of seeing her verbally flayed, Draco and Harry had coldly affirmed that the oath was entirely expressive of their family's feelings and would not be lifted. Behind closed doors, she was scolded, but only lightly; Harry was just as furious as Draco and his daughter by the Weasley girl's words, but he was bound by unwritten adult law not to unleash his wrath on her.

A pity that.

* * *

><p>By the time the holidays did roll around, the twins had forgotten about their quest to discover what in the past had turned Ronald Weasley into what he was now, faced with a new dilemma.<p>

"Alb, you're sure he won't let you stay?"

"I-I told him Professor Slughorn wants me to stay to do some extra credit Potions work – says I have a talent." The short redhead sighed, his dark hair falling into his brown eyes. His mother's genetics had rid him of the label 'ginger', leaving his hair a colour more akin to Godric Gryffindor's – a dark red that almost qualified as a brown. He wrung his hands a little, then pulled a face at the girlish motion and ceased.

"If Mum were still around..." He left the sentence hanging, eyes turning to the letter next to him.

"He expects me home – but I can't stand it there! Always them laughing, praising Cae for being the perfect copy of Dad, the snide comments about slimy Slytherins, the reporters, that _bint _always hanging off of him, giggling and making doe eyes at him like he's the gods' gift to the world-" He stopped and heaved a huge sigh.

"I hate Brown." Azrael winced and hugged his friend's shoulders gently. Lucifer huffed.

"Well. We have to do something, and I for one will not stand for this!" She hopped to her feet and knocked on the wall next to Salazar's portrait, waiting patiently for him to appear with Godric in tow.

"Yes, Amelia?" She huffed a little, then nodded to Albus.

"Our friend here is in need of sanctuary. We were wondering if you would assist us – we need only a few moments of your time, Lord Gryffindor. You and our dear old godfather, Neville Longbottom-"

"And your Heir, do not forget."

"-Would be the best candidates to convince his father that he should remain at Hogwarts." She folded her arms and rolled her shoulders a little.

"Weasley is very much a fawning Gryffindor and, best case scenario, would be so awed by your presence as to afford us time to come up with plans to assist Alby during the summer as well." She finished her little speech with a flourishing bow, ignoring her brother's mutters and Salazar's sarcastic applause.

"Well...Ms. Amelia's delivery may be over-dramatic, but she has a point, Godric-"

"Naturally, mine beloved Founder. Too bad you're gay. And ancient. And dead."

"-You, with your Heir, will be best suited to this task. Amelia, refrain from acting in such a fashion," he scolded the mocking Slytherin, who pouted before collapsing in a heap next to her brother, who flicked her. She stuck out her tongue, and he returned the action, ignoring Albus's shudder.

"That's still creepy, guys." Azrael raised one thin eyebrow, smirking a little.

"Oh? Whatever is the matter, Albus?" The shorter boy made a face.

"You _know_ what – why your parents let you surgically split the tip of your tongue _and _get matching tongue piercings with your twin is beyond me." Azrael alternated each half of his tongue, laughing aloud at Albus's shudder, when a sharp knock reverberated through their rooms. Lucifer rose to her feet and padded to the door, hissing to the guardian to allow whoever it was entrance. The enormous winged serpent etched into the door hissed and shifted, the scales that made up the locks ruffling and pulling back, unlocking the door and allowing her to pull it open. Their Head of House swept in without a word, followed by Neville and their parents.

"Father, Pater!" Azrael rose and hugged Draco, ignoring his commentary on his unruly hair. Harry wrapped his free arm (the one not around his husband's waist) around his daughter's shoulders.

"I hope they've been giving you hell, Sev." The dour Potions Master leveled a bland stare on the grinning ex-Gryffindor, before gesturing to a newly arrived house elf, who quickly supplied him with a small glass of Firewhiskey, before laying out the rest of its offerings and disappearing with a sharp crack.

"They have been exceptionally well behaved when not faced with their fellow students' bigotry and idiocy – I apologize if I am offering insult to you, Mr. Weasley." Albus shook his head.

"It's fine, Professor Snape – your words are accurate; I will not defend the actions of my siblings." Harry sobered, releasing Lucifer to sit with Albus.

"Where are you going to the holidays? If it weren't for Ron, I'd offer your our home – but I can only imagine the accusations he'd bury us in." Draco's voice was slightly harsh as he replied, "He will not allow you to remain at Hogwarts, will he? He knows we spend every holiday break here." Albus bit his lip and nodded.

"Well, Father, Pater, Godfather – we, that is me, or rather I, have come up with a plan, should Godric and Nev agree to it." Azrael looked to the Herbology professor, who shrugged.

"I see no reason why not." Draco snorted.

"Neville – you _really _need to learn not to agree to everything they ask."

* * *

><p>The plan went off without a hitch, hinging on the fact that a rumour went around that the Malfoy-Potters were taking a trip to Italy with the Zabinis and would not be in Hogwarts at the time. Albus was happily ensconced in Slytherin House, afforded all of Slughorn's dubious attentions and Severus's expertise while he gathered more points than were strictly necessary for Slytherin House and bloomed in his Potions potential. The twins remembered their mission and began to snoop again, when news that Ronald Weasley was coming to Hogwarts swept the holiday lethargy plagued school's populace, with fearful connotations.<p>

He was greatly displeased.

* * *

><p>Neither Azrael not Lucifer was there when he publicly and loudly reamed his middle child and disowned him. Only Draco's cool-under-pressure demeanour kept Harry from breaking the redhead's nose (or worse), but there was nothing he could do to prevent Minerva's wrath. She brought down quite a lot of censure for her angry response to Ron's behaviour, and her orders to have him removed from the grounds. Lady Hogwarts didn't hesitate to acquiesce to the Headmistress's request, and Ron found himself several miles into the Forbidden Forest, in the middle of a bog, mid-rant.<p>

"What _possessed _him! There is no cause for _anything _of the like, especially when the boy did nothing wrong! Does he know _nothing _of decency?" Minerva sat down hard, fury radiating off her in waves. Severus rested one hand on Albus's shoulder, replying icily, "He is of no account now, Minerva – we must deal with Albus's status as ward of the state. The board of governors is quite set in their support of Mr. Weasley. Only a miracle will prevent further damage now." The Headmistress sighed wearily and nodded, all her fury fueled energy draining away. The tight-lipped Slytherin shifted a little under her tired gaze, discomfort welling.

"Headmistress, I can get a job – pay to stay here during the holidays-"

"Nonsense. I will have nothing of the sort." She looked to Severus, who chuckled suddenly.

"If anyone can fix this, it will be Potter." Even after all those years after they'd called a truce, he refused to call Harry by his married name.

"We need only ask, Minerva – the boy will never grow out of his hero complex, and Albus, he is truly fond of you. A simple blood adoption may very well be all that need happen." The ex-Weasley took a deep breath, nodded, and with Minerva's silent dismissal, returned to Slytherin House, at a loss for what would happen to him now.

* * *

><p>The Ministry had change quite a bit since the post-War reconstruction had finally ended almost seventeen years earlier. Gone were most of the statues, replaced by modern art (which, to most, looks like writhing bronze pipes splattered with paint and engraved with the names of the war casualties), and the atmosphere seemed, perhaps, brighter, less stifled. However, today the Ministry seemed deserted, quite the rarity; Harry knew it was because the Floos were closed for 'maintenance' while he dealt with his ex-friend and the Weasley's supporters. From his response to his letter, it seemed he would do anything in his power to prevent the Malfoy-Potters from adopting Albus, and if the hexes flying above his head were anything to go on, he was adamant on the matter. Draco crouched beside him, looking absolutely furious.<p>

"We can't kill him, Draco-"

"It would be self-defense – and our _children _are with us! If I can avoid it, I will not take a life in front of them!" The children in question were huddled behind them, wands out. Albus had cast several rune based shields around them, and was now sandwiched between the twins, who were debating the proper punishment for Mr. Weasley.

"Perhaps a weasel in a zoo."

"No, in the wild, sister – in the zoo, he'd be fed constantly. I, however, vote for turning him into a rat; a universal nuisance, and likely to be dead in a week, especially with a compulsion placed on him."

"With his own wand, of course."

"But of course." Azrael nodded sagely, and Albus had to stifle a giggle, when both adults suddenly swore. Startled by the vehement reaction, the teens focused questioningly on them.

"Is he _insane_? A Caligulan curse, especially a _water _based one!" Draco tangled his fingers with his husband's and snapped at the teens, "Under no circumstances are you to move – stay _right here_, unless your father tells you to run, in which case you will Apparate to Godric's Hollow, the Manor, or Hogsmeade, understood?" The twins nodded, fear darkening their green eyes as their parents rose in unison and stepped into the line of fire. The battle raged more, and only a chance blast that gave Lucifer the perfect view of Ron Weasley's wand hand gave them any warning at all.

"Father, he's Summoning something!" Unfortunately, the Summons were too far in the making for them to stop, and it was in that split second of realization that it happened.

The three teens felt the hair on their bodies stand on end as a wave of raw wild magic rose from Harry and Draco, turning the air a luminous blue, writhing and wavering around them. The Summons ended just as the blood-born spell did; suddenly they were falling into immense black, and then they knew nothing but black themselves.

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><p>AN: Review, please? I'd bribe you, but I don't have anything bribe worthy, unless you want cheese...


	2. Chapter 2

The darkness suddenly retreated, and their fall terminated sharply as they slammed into the stone below. The cloud of dust engulfed them like a miniature reenactment of the cloud that choked Pompeii – or at least, that's how Azrael felt as he attempted not to hack up a lung.

"Gah – what-" He looked over his shoulder at Lucifer, who was frantically dusting herself off.

"What just happened!" He rose slowly, wincing as bruises he'd no doubt see later twinged.

"I – they – I don't know, Lu-" He stopped again, eyes flicking around the alley they'd landed in.

"Luc, where's Albus?" She stopped and looked around too, eyes widening.

"I – shite! What did they do? Alby!" She yelled it and only barely restrained herself from sinking her teeth into her twin's hand when he slapped it over her mouth.

"Luc, what are you _doing_? You don't know where we are, and we don't know what's out there – _don't _yell!" She nodded, eyes a little sullen, a little sheepish, as he pulled his hand away and inched forward, eyes darting around the area.

"I think we're in Diagon Alley – I don't know where though, I don't see Weasley's place anywhere..." Lucifer moved to his side and brushed a bit of dust off his shoulder, looking around as well.

"Let's get directions to the Leaky, then." They moved out, assessing each other's state as they went, when they collided with another pair coming in the opposite direction.

"Oh!" Lucifer steadied whoever it was she'd ran into, noticing her brother doing the same on her other side.

"I'm sorry-" She stopped mid-sentence, wondering if Azrael's expression mirrored her own.

* * *

><p>The woman staring at them looked uncannily familiar; though the image they'd seen her in had been old, her dark eyes still sparkled, and soft blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon at the back of her head, upon which a fashionable hat was pinned. The other woman was unknown, but this one...<p>

"N-Narcissa Malfoy?" The Lady Malfoy started, examining them in confusion.

"Why, yes – but who are you?" That wasn't possible. Azrael met his sister's eyes and shrugged a little, just as perturbed as she.

"I – we-" Narcissa allowed one perfectly plucked eyebrow to rise, a silvery arch over oddly dark eyes, her expression perfectly quizzical.

"Are you both alright? You seem to be a little – out of sorts." She took in the tears and few visible scrapes, coupled with the dust and grime that seemed to have coated their star bright hair – and what an odd shade to see on another person. They couldn't possibly be cousins of Lucius's, could they? She gently caught the girl's chin and forced her to look up, meeting those wide green eyes squarely – an exotic shade, really.

"Hmm." The girl's expression was faintly defiant as she released her.

"I do believe you both need to be examined; it seems you've both been in a bit of a scuffle." Azrael stirred now, objecting.

"We – we can't, we need to find Professor Dumbledore!" Narcissa almost didn't see the startled expression on the boy's twin's face, but filed away her surprise for later inspection.

"Really...yes, you do both seem to be of Hogwarts age – but why are you here, then? Perhaps you are students of another school?" Her companion suddenly cleared her throat, and she met the other woman's smiling eyes.

"We have an obligation as mothers, Narcissa – surely we can bring them with us? Perhaps then you can explain what happened to you, yes?" She directed her final comment at the twins, who nodded sharply, exchanging questioning glances.

"Excellent idea, Gabriella; come, dears. I am loathe to leave you here, and would be pleased to assist you in getting to Hogwarts." The teens found themselves being lead to a posh boutique, where Narcissa introduced her companion as one Lady Gabriella Zabini – the grandmother of their friends Daniel and Maurice. They, after feigning memory loss, soon found the answer to the niggling question of how their grandmother was alive; they were in the past.

To be exact, they were in their parents' fourth year.

* * *

><p>"This isn't possible!"<p>

"...Father's involved." Lucifer threw up her hands.

"We can't assume just because he was – _was_ – the Chosen One, that that somehow makes him able to do what no one has _ever_ done!"

"Since no one's ever done it, there's no proof it's impossible – and there's no way it's _not, _because we're here now!" She groaned and collapsed onto the bed, staring at him through her fingers. They were at the Malfoy Manor, their father's ancestral home; Narcissa and Gabriella insisted, especially since they 'couldn't remember the circumstances that had left them in such a sorry state'.

"Fine," she mumbled, dropping her hands.

"Fine. We'll go to Hogwarts, we'll talk to Dumbledore – he'll probably believe us. If not...we'll escape from St. Mungo's and figure this out on our own. Right now...let's just relax and let Grandmother – er, Lady Malfoy – take us to Hogwarts." Azrael grumbled a little, before settling into the bed across from her, dissipating the lights above them with a lazy wand flick.

"...Hey, Luc?"

"Yeah, Azrael?"

"We need a surname that won't lead everyone to think Potter or Malfoy..." His twin's yawn was audible.

"We're Evans...Azrael and Amelia Evans..."

* * *

><p>Narcissa swept into her husband's office, smiling icily at the secretary outside who nodded tightly in greeting; she knew the girl's parents, and was actually quite friendly with her, but some things were to be kept behind closed doors – specifically, those of the upper echelon of wizarding society.<p>

"Lucius." The man rose and pressed the slightest of dry pecks to her cheek, before withdrawing.

"Narcissa – you mentioned having guests, and gave me the names Azrael Lucas and Amelia Lucifer; I have found no record of either name. They gave you no surname?" She rested one hand over his, meeting his pale eyes.

"No – they seem to be suffering from memory loss, though they know each other as twins, and spoke of a friend who was with them; 'Alby', I believe. A diminutive, obviously, but of what I am not sure. They seemed to have been attacked, Lucius – they are mere children!"

"So too is Harry Potter, Narcissa..." She paused, removing her hand from his and folding them, the only sign of her agitation the tightness around her mouth.

"Indeed." She took a deep breath and inclined her head to her husband.

"Very well; I will deliver them to Hogwarts – I have no doubt that Headmaster Dumbledore will be able to assist them. After that...perhaps I will visit Draconis." She placed a light kiss on her husband's forehead and departed without another word, let alone a backward glance – that was their life in the light of prying eyes.

* * *

><p>Hogwarts was different, strikingly so; both twins knew this was, logically, because of the war, but somehow it hadn't sunk in until now. The layout was different, the portraits were different, the <em>stones<em> were different. The discomfort settled like dust on unused books, but they refused to crack, and entered the Great Hall with all the nobility and grace befitting of Malfoy-Potters.

Even if no one would have been able to believe such a thing existed.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore wasn't expecting this, even though he'd received the surprising news from Narcissa Malfoy several days prior. The twins walking up to the Head Table at Narcissa's side looked very much like they could be her children – well, their noses were off, stronger than the MalfoyBlack features, but beyond that... However, as they got closer, he was certain he heard the sharp inhale from many of the teachers with him – specifically, Severus Snape. Those eyes were unmistakable – the eyes of one Lily Potter nee Evans.

The eyes of Harry Potter.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." The Lady Malfoy might seem cold, but he knew she was generally kind, if only to those she approved of, and he saw she had a soft spot for these two.

"Lady Malfoy. And these are...?"

"Azrael Lucas and Amelia Lucifer Evans, Headmaster." He knew for a fact that only Minerva, Alastor, and Severus would make the immediate leap, and he had a feeling that the strange stare from Harry meant he knew something was off as well, though he presumed he could not hear the details. He offered the pair a smile, and was gratified to receive twin grins in return; they were not hostile then – clear eyed and friendly seeming. He excused himself from the Hall and lead his guests to his office, knowing full well the other teachers were probably desperate to know what was going on. Narcissa left the twins alone with him, citing an interest in speaking with her son and Severus. Hogwart's Headmaster steepled his fingers and gazed at the two stoic teens over his spectacles.

"Well. Have a seat, please." They did so jerkily, though the awkwardness seemed forced; they were generally graceful, then.

"Now – Mrs. Malfoy offered very little by way of information, though she implied that you've been in an accident and do not remember details yourselves." Twin hesitant nods. The Headmaster raised an eyebrow at that, and the male sighed.

"Headmaster Dumbledore – it's not that we do not remember; it's that our circumstances are...unlikely, at best." His twin nodded, and the older wizard sighed, leaning back.

"Elaborate, Mr. Evans; I have seen much in my lifetime, and little surprises me anymore." The girl coughed, then said, "Well, sir, the thing is – we aren't from this time." Fawkes glided over as if to better listen to their conversation, landing on the Headmaster's shoulder and cocking his head in question. She continued, "Our name is actually Malfoy-Potter – our parents are Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, who are currently fourth year students at your school, sir. _We _are fifth year students here, though in our time, you are long dead and Minerva McGonagall is Headmistress." Azrael nodded in confirmation, and both teens gazed at him expectantly with luminous green eyes. Instead of replying immediately, he let his eyes fall to Fawkes, who sang a single, lingering note – they were telling the truth.

"Well. It is not every day that a man is faced with harbingers of his death, however removed they are from the situation. How did I die, I wonder?" He held up a hand when Amelia opened her mouth to speak.

"No, no, do not tell me – who knows what the consequences of such an act would be." He eyed them.

"Mrs. Malfoy said you were looking for your friend – he too is a fifth year student at Hogwarts in your time?"

"Yes, Headmaster – Albus Octavian Weasley, sir, named for you by Ronald and Hermione Weasley." He noted the sour expressions at Ron's name and silently filed the implications away for later.

"Hmm. I'm flattered, of course," he replied brightly, ignoring their twin eye rolls, "but are you certain he came with you? And how, exactly, did this come to be?"

They explained the circumstances surrounding their arrival, a little hesitant as to how much they should reveal. By the end of their admittedly astounding tale, the Headmaster had come to a decision.

"Well, I will assist you – aye, I am all but duty bound to do so, as Headmaster of your school, past or not. You are in my care now; we will fabricate a properly vague tale and Sort you into one of the Houses – what House did you belong to in your time?"

"Slytherin, sir," came the replies in unison. He chuckled and nodded.

"Well, will you be rejoining Severus's House, or shall I reSort you?" Lucifer met her twin's eyes, and replied slowly, "I would like to join Gryffindor House, Professor – I wouldn't want to somehow alienate Father. If we can, we'd like to observe this time; we...have been wondering how Ron Weasley became what he is in our time. We will, of course, try not to affect anything in this time, but..." Azrael finished for her.

"This is an unprecedented event, and we don't know how much our very presence affects the events of time so far anyway. We will operate with caution, and understand that you cannot rightly turn all your attention to our plight, what with the Tournament and Father's unlikely position in it. We respectfully request access to the Restricted Section – perhaps this has indeed happened and we simply don't know of it." The Headmaster agreed, transfiguring their robes before summoning their new – or rather, old and new – Heads of House.

* * *

><p>Severus was far from pleased with the Headmaster's news, and yet entirely unsurprised; leave it to Albus to let just anyone suffering memory loss without a single record of their existence into Hogwarts. Yes, he generally trusted the man, but that never made his decisions any less dubious. Minerva seemed just as displeased, much to his surprise; he'd expected her to be entirely in line with Albus's choice.<p>

The twins were seated back to back on the floor when they arrived, eyes locked on the door with unnerving intensity that was only exacerbated by their unusual eyes.

And whose idea was it to further plague him with Lily's eyes, and from complete strangers at that?

"Severus, Minerva! Azrael and Amelia will be joining your respective Houses; an unusual family situation has left them in my care, and I will vouch for them." Of course he would. Azrael helped his sister off and stood for a moment, foreheads touching, before releasing her hands and moving to Severus's side, Amelia going to Minerva. The Headmaster beamed at them in dismissal, and Severus wasted no time sweeping out, not bothering to say a word to the new student as his thoughts roiled.

"Professor?" He started and almost turned, only to find the boy directly beside him, eyes directed forward.

"What, Mr. ...Evans?" He barely got the name out, and he knew the teen could tell.

"I wanted to apologise ahead of time." The Potions Master narrowed his eyes.

"For what, pray tell?"

"For the pain my sister and I are undeniably causing you. Were circumstances different, we would be able to explain, but it is unlikely we will ever be able to. Again, I apologise." They continued in silence, Severus lost in his chaotic thoughts at the strange apology repeated over and over in his head.

* * *

><p>"The password is Antebellum, Ms. Evans. Curfew is posted in the Common Room; should you require assistance, I would advise going to Ms. Hermione Granger – she will no doubt be able to help you." Lucifer raised an eyebrow at that.<p>

"What of the prefects, Professor?"

"Normally I would advise you ask them, but Ms. Granger is entirely trustworthy." Lucifer barely covered a smirk at the woman's muttered, "When not getting into trouble with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley," before the portrait swung open and she was led inside. The elderly witch cast Sonorus and spoke sharply.

"May I have your attention, please?" The students gathered quickly, undoubtedly curious about the newcomers.

"This is Amelia Evans; I expect you to offer her the same courtesy and friendship you would any of your other Housemates, regardless of the oddity of her arrival." She continued on that tangent for a few more moments, before leaving Lucifer to deal with her new house on her own.

She eyed the garish red dubiously, swallowed, straightened, and strutted in. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it like a Malfoy-Potter should – with style and the knowledge that she was superior to everyone (even when she was scared shitless and was certain she was inferior regardless). She almost swallowed her tongue when the twin materialized, eyeing her warily, before holding out two innocuous seeming pieces of candy. She stared at the sweets, then offered the straight-faced tricksters a smirk.

"Maybe another time – see if your brother wants one, yea?" They shared a look, snorted, pocketed the sweets, and went on their way, making her wonder if she should probably begin testing everything in the common room for fear of Weasley doom hidden anywhere someone might stumble on it. She shook her head at that thought and drifted toward the fireplace, expecting to see a large group there. There weren't actually that many people in the common room, and she didn't see her father – gods, she'd have to start referring to him as Harry now, wouldn't she? – anywhere. Her lack of attention resulted in her tripping over a sizable stack of books (how had she overlooked those?) and barely righting herself. Unfortunately for the books' owner, they rained down onto her and probably would have brained her if it weren't for the helmet of bushy hair. Wait...

"Hermione Granger?" She'd barely bitten off 'Weasley', silently scolding herself; she needed to remember where she was! The Gryffindor witch shoved some of the books to the side. Lucifer winced and quickly gathered them with a flippant wave of her wand.

"Sorry – I was distracted." The Muggleborn witch laughed.

"Oh, it's fine – bound to happen sooner or later. Amelia, right?"

"I prefer Lucifer." The witch looked puzzled, and she elaborated, "It's my middle name. Only my godfather calls me Amelia." Or rather, called her. She fought the urge to groan as a sizable headache began to bloom between her eyes, and slumped onto the couch. Hermione righted her books and joined her, about to continue speaking, when she froze, eyes widening. Lucifer was absolutely baffled as to what was the problem _now_, when she remembered her eyes. Before she could think of a clever way to distract her, the witch snapped out of it, blushing furiously.

"I'm so sorry, that was terribly rude of me." She shook her head as if to clear it and stuck her hand out.

"Hermione Granger, fourth year."

"Amelia Evans – fifth year," Lucifer supplied, shaking her hand. The other witch beamed, and Lucifer fought the urge to wince, suddenly wishing her brother was there.

* * *

><p>Azrael was faced with his own challenges upon entering the Slytherin common room. Severus's words to his house were sharp and succinct before he made himself scarce, leaving the newcomer to fend for himself – no doubt assuming he would be eaten alive in seconds. Azrael snorted and pushed his hair out of his eyes, letting them wander the dimly lit room. He found his father – and the awkwardness of it all was far from lost on him – with his posse immediately.<p>

_Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Zabini – I see Nott lurking in a corner behind them. Bulstrode must be the one with the cat. _He continued to catalogue people as he recognised them, completely ignorant to the Slytherin Ice Prince's glower until he spoke up.

"Azrael Evans, then?" He barely contained an involuntary start, and focused on his father, silently reminding himself to treat him as hostile; he'd arrived with his mother, of all people, and was entirely unknown, which would probably set Draco on edge. He allowed himself a bored nod, and immediately regretted it when those silver eyes turned hard and cold.

_I'm treading on his territory – he's in charge, not me. _He folded his arms and met the gaze steadily, wondering for a moment what his sister would do, barely smothering a snort at the thought. His sister would have told their father to pull the Whomping Willow out of his arse and went on her way; she was the one who was completely secure in the knowledge that she was a queen, literally or not. _He _had no such delusions of grandeur, especially not faced with his regal father – who was a year younger than he. Awkward silence prevailed, when Parkinson suddenly rose and flounced up to him, leaning toward him.

"Huh – he has Potter's eyes." She pulled back with a grimace.

"No insult intended, of course." He rolled his eyes and slid past her, joining the group uninvited. He sat across from Draco, crossing his legs and leaning back in the armchair, silently challenging him to say something against him. Instead, the Malfoy heir's eyes flicked over his face, then down to his hand – probably questioning the ring.

"Evans isn't a pureblood name."

"I'm no pureblood – though one of my fathers is, the other is a half-blood." He tossed his parents' lifestyle out first, knowing it would be under heavy scrutiny as the Slytherins sought to identify him. The added morsel of his blood status would leave them off-guard – he knew for a fact that blood purity was still an issue at this point, and that they would assume he was somehow less than they due to it. He liked crushing stupid ideas like that, and delighted even more in grinding the shards into wounded pride. Draco sniffed, appearing bored, but he could almost see the wheels turning in his head. The others were more transparent, though Zabini and Parkinson less so than Nott and Bulstrode, since Crabbe and Goyle apparently had the intellect of stumps. The room was filled with murmurs as the populace compared notes, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't bother looking up, though he did notice his father's eyes go even colder.

"Barque." A chuckle sounded above him, and someone moved around him to seat beside him, mimicking his position some, though with none of the implications of a throne Azrael had adopted.

"Malfoy; 'twould seem Evans has instigated quite the show here." The newcomer was a wizard of average height and strong classical features, pale skin, dark hair and eyes. He fingered the arm of his chair lazily, smirking at the younger wizard. Draco spoke stiffly, directing his words to Azrael.

"This is Dominic Barque, a fifth year like yourself." The expression didn't change, and Azrael silently wondered if he remembered hearing about any Barque from his fathers. Nothing stood out, so he assumed it was mere school rivalry and ignored it.

"Your sister's in Gryffindor? She struck me as being quite Slytherine."

"She is – she just happens to have enough of a lion in her to qualify for Godric's house." He wondered if _that _was why he was here – his sister. The idea was laughable; his sister was practically Lady Diana – she'd sooner turn a man into a stag and have him torn to pieces by his own dogs than sleep with one. Dominic slung an arm around his shoulders, ignoring the stiffening in his posture.

"Well, welcome to Slytherin, Evans – don't hesitate to seek me out if the current company turns stale." He left with a bark of laughter that chafed on Azrael's ears, and for a moment there was cold silence, which Zabini finally broke with a yawn.

"Barque is so plebeian, and crass at that." He nodded to Azrael.

"I do hope he hasn't offered you insult, being so open about his..._interest _in your twin." Azrael shrugged.

"Her middle name isn't Lucifer for no reason – she'd eat him alive." Bulstrode laughed aloud at that, and even Parkinson tittered a little. Draco's icy facade finally melted some, and he stretched, smirking.

"We can only hope so, Azrael." The unspoken welcome was more reassuring than Barque's boisterous invitation ever could be.

* * *

><p>Harry trudged to the Great Hall, fully expecting to have to endure more icy glares from Ron while Hermione ate mechanically between them, but was surprised to see that Ron had been ousted from his usual position by a blonde. He was first struck by her hair colour, a perfect match to Malfoy's; in fact, he could see Malfoy now, seated between Zabini and another platinum blonde – the girl's twin. He suddenly remembered the newcomers from yesterday, and slowly eased forward, stopping at Hermione's other side.<p>

"This seat taken?" Hermione did something of a double take, then shoved her books into her bag, freeing the seat.

"No, no, sit!" He did as she asked, and she turned suddenly to the girl at his side.

"Lucy, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Amelia Lucifer Evans – she'll answer to Lucy or Lucifer." The wizard turned a little to meet the witch's eyes, and almost swallowed his tongue when he did; it was like looking into a mirror. The girl offered her hand, eyes glittering with warmth.

"A pleasure – can I call you Harry?" He nodded numbly, and she smiled.

"Again, a pleasure, Harry." Before he could recover, he felt a shock go down his spine and twisted to see Lucifer's twin standing behind him, smirking a bit.

"Mind if I join you, Luc? Draco gave me permission to mingle." The heavy sarcasm, coupled with the smirk and his laughing eyes, only threw him further off-balance as Hermione scooted to the side, giving the Slytherin a place to sit. He thanked her as he descended gracefully, inquiring, "Hermione Granger, no? My sister and I have heard of you – you are said to be incredibly bright, for a witch your age." Harry was expecting him to say, 'for a Mudblood', and wondered how many more shocks he could take in a day. He was _tired, _damn it! Hermione confirmed her identity, before pulling Harry forward some, repeating her introduction. He found himself faced with a hand, and felt another tiny shock go down his spine at the unnerving familiarity of it all; yet another blonde Slytherin, offering him his hand. In this case, no demands for friendship were made, but still... He shook his hand as if it might morph into a snake and bite him.

"Azrael Evans – Luc's twin." He mumbled a neutral greeting, and quickly pulled his hand away, ignoring Hermione's quiet scolding for being rude. The Slytherin didn't seem to notice, his attention monopolized by his sister as they laughed and talked, oblivious to the gaping Hall who was wondering how a Slytherin could be sitting at Gryffindor table and not be hexed. Harry ate mechanically, wondering what was in store this school year – he'd already done the impossible once, so it couldn't possibly get worse than this, right?

Someone was laughing in Fate's domain, because sure enough, he found himself almost running into Draco Malfoy moments before breakfast ended.

"Watch where you're going, _Potter_." He bit back a retort, and was startled when an unfamiliar arm was slung around his shoulders.

"Relax, Malfoy – he's barely awake, didn't mean any harm." The blonde Slytherin seemed taken aback by Lucifer's bold assertion, and further stunned when she turned Harry and shoved him toward the doors.

"You have Potions, kid – move it, or Snape'll eat you alive. ...Or just poison you and wash his hands of you, either one." She beamed brightly as Harry stumbled away, dazed and utterly confused. Azrael bid the fourth year Slytherins farewell, pulling Lucifer after him while scolding that laughing Gryffindor for all to hear.

* * *

><p>Hermione looked up, not expecting to see Lucifer back so soon – she'd said she and her brother were testing with some of the professors to glean their class placement this morning, and they'd been gone for most of the day, and no one expected them back until after dinner.<p>

"Hey, Hermione." She collapsed into the seat next to her, yawning. Hermione closed her books and gently placed her overlong Charms essay to the side.

"Well?"

"Mm...What?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"What were the results of the tests?" The blonde yawned again, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Oh, that," she said, waving a hand negligently, "we're being placed in seventh year Charms, fourth year Defense – embarrassing, that; Father would be shocked. Um, seventh year Herbology, sixth year Potions, and I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures as well as Ancient Runes while Azrael takes Arithmancy and seventh year Potions with Divination." She wrinkled her nose at that, then shrugged.

"So, I'll have a class with you! The Headmaster believes our school may have accelerated curriculum, which is why we're ahead of the other fifth year students." Hermione blinked.

"What school was that?" Lucifer paused.

"...I don't actually remember." She sighed, appearing frustrated.

"Azrael doesn't remember either – neither of us can remember anything other than our age, family, and basic memories, but certain information is gone completely; we don't even know what happened." She shrugged, leaning back.

"Professor Dumbledore is looking into it, and I have faith that he'll at least be able to give us some idea of what happened." Hermione clucked her tongue sympathetically, before brightening.

"The first task is tomorrow, did you know?" Lucifer snorted.

"It's the only thing anyone's talking about – well, that and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."

* * *

><p>"I cannot believe he turned you into a ferret – and I <em>missed <em>it!" Draco scowled furiously at a guffawing Blaise, who was in turn hiding behind Azrael to prevent dismemberment. Azrael smothered his own laughter, saying, "I'm sure he'll be sacked before you know it."

"Oh no – Dumbledore won't let his _precious _Harry Potter be put in danger, so Moody stays." Blaise smothered more laughter and left to assist Pansy with Potions homework, leaving Draco with Azrael, who, after some minutes of quiet, asked, "What do you have against Harry?" He didn't bother calling him Potter – no one would think anything of it. The silver eyed blonde pulled a face, sitting up and leaning forward, his own Potions work shoved aside.

"It's just habit now – I don't actually have anything against him. In first year, I tried to befriend him-" he stopped and snorted.

"Well, I made a right arse of myself, but I didn't know any better – neither did he. He rejected me and I stayed sore about it." He rolled his eyes at his own immaturity.

"So, like I said – it's just habit now." Azrael narrowed his eyes.

"Have you tried befriending him again?"

"Have you ever been hexed by Potter, Azrael? No? Don't question why I've never tried again..." The green eyed teen huffed at Draco's stubbornness, but dropped the topic, knowing full well they had time, but something about this was all – wrong. He could feel the strangeness, the niggling sensation that they had to fix something, stop it before it went too far. He rubbed his eyes and rose, trudging to the dorms. He'd been up too long – everything would be clearer in the morning.

* * *

><p>AN: Well. A couple things; I can't write Minerva without hearing Maggie Smith's voice (faaaaaail). Secondly, I should probably be updating Descending Grace, but it's being mean, so expect it to be slow. This particular story I've actually plotted out. O.O XD Review, fantastic people! I live off them, those reviews; they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside and urge me to write and update faster. -wink wink, nudge nudge, bright flashing lights surround the review button-

P.S. Isn't antebellum a gorgeous word? So _pretty. _


	3. Chapter 3

The morning of the first task dawned bright and clear, and the heady atmosphere engulfed the entire school of Hogwarts and all its inhabitants. Draco, along with the majority of Slytherin, offered little by way of obvious support (a Hufflepuff or _Potter_? Really? Those were their choices?) but if one looked closely, one might see a discreet Hufflepuff flag or even more rarely, a Gryffindor coloured badge. Draco himself didn't bother with either, but Azrael opted to show his support in the form of the Hogwarts crest, the badger and lion charmed to run about freely and occasionally strike absolutely ridiculous poses. Pansy had squealed over it and had one of her own, adding sound to it – Draco was nurturing a headache from the roaring and odd snuffling.

In spite of the headache, he found himself mulling over Azrael's words, if not Azrael himself – the mysterious twins had made quite the impact among the upperclassmen and all four Houses with their unfailingly friendly manner and refusal to judge someone by their House colours or blood purity. Of course, speculation ran rampant through the school about their relationship with Narcissa Malfoy – the possibility of them being Blacks or even distant cousins of the Malfoys, though some few dared wonder as to the possibility of them actually being related to Harry Potter through his mother's family. Most scoffed at that, and Draco personally thought it absolutely preposterous – much like Azrael's insistence that he befriend Potter, or at least repeat his failed attempt. Honestly, he desperately wanted to do just that, but in the midst of rabid reporters (could Skeeter get any more stalker-ish?) and a possibly fatal tournament (which he hadn't entered, apparently), Draco highly doubted his chances of getting within ten feet of the Saviour without getting hexed, at best.

"Galleon for your thoughts."

"Mm – I suppose I am examining the merits of your proposal yesterday." Azrael rolled his eyes, replying quietly, "It would do you good." The other blonde shrugged, turning his eyes to the tent at the edge of the arena. He noticed a pair of witches sneaking around the edge, and rolled his eyes; honestly, did the Gryffindors ever attempt subtlety?

* * *

><p>Lucifer had asked (again and again and again) the same question, but Hermione had waved her off, hissing Harry's name to get his attention. The short brunette finally appeared, blinking owlishly.<p>

"Hermione? What-"

"Are you alright?"

"...Hermione, I'm about to face off with a dragon, who could very well do Voldemort's task _for _him-" He barely covered a yelp when she flung herself at him in a fit of semi-hysteria, and only Lucifer's conscious (the one that sounded like her godfather Neville, sadly) prevented her from hexing the suddenly appeared reporter and her photographer. She only barely began to gush her poisonous sap when Viktor, bless his underrated soul, stepped in, using all his intimidating Durmstrang spirit to force the woman out of the tent, and with no time to spare – the judges and the contestant's sponsors seemed to materialize seconds later to explain the task. Seeing her chance, she yanked Hermione out of the tent, barely causing the cloth to rustle.

"Gryffindors! Only you would do something so harebrained!"

"B-But Lucy, you're a Gryffindor." Lucifer huffed, momentarily forgetting with whom she was talking.

"I'm starting to think I made a mistake with that, too..." Hermione puzzled over that as the fifth year ranted, dragging them up to the stands – in the wrong section.

"Wait, Lucy, this is-"

"If it isn't Granger and Evans II." Lucifer stopped and glared at Nott, the venom in her green eyes almost manifesting physically – 'if looks could kill' took on new meaning when your eyes were the same shade as the Killing Curse. Nott swallowed and slunk off, much to the obvious amusement of Draco and his friends. Azrael made Blaise move to Pansy's other side so Hermione and Lucifer could sit, greeting them without preamble.

"How's Po-Harry?" If Hermione was surprised by Draco's hesitant use of Harry's first name, she didn't show it.

"He's...nervous, I guess – we were interrupted by Skeeter." Lucifer mumbled something unflattering under her breath, barely flinching when the cannon sounded.

The dragons proved to be more exciting than even those who knew about them could have imagined; Lucifer and Azrael both had only heard a few vague stories about the Tournament and were utterly astonished by the time it was actually Harry's turn.

"Hermione, do you know what he's planning to do?" Azrael's question could barely be heard above the chatter between each round.

"No – he mumbled something before he went to bed yesterday, but I have no idea – oh, here he is!" The entire group moved forward without realising it, enthralled by the thin figure scrambling over rocks to avoid the furious Horntail's attacks.

"He hasn't moved towards a defensive or offensive strategy – what is he _doing_?" They all gaped as he disappeared behind a rock that was steadily being melted away by the intense blasts of fire being directed at him. Azrael wasn't sure why he looked up, but he spotted it by chance, and relief coursed through him.

"He summoned his broom!"

"What-" Another blast of fire, this time directed at the stands, startled everyone – even those out of the line of fire – into ducking, and again when the dragon ripped free of the single chain holding it to the ground and made chase. Draco came up first, eyes following the disappearing pair almost frantically.

"_Shite_."

* * *

><p>Harry spiraled back into the stadium, cursing mildly at his irritating luck and thanking his lucky stars for it at the same time as he scooped up the egg and barely twisted out of an ugly collision with the stands, landing shakily. Seconds later he found himself being crushed to death – that is, hugged, but by who he couldn't tell. Only a shaky laugh and a flash of yellow gave him any clue at all.<p>

"C-Cedric?"

"You are barking mad, Potter – absolutely _mad_." Viktor and Fleur clustered around him as well, expressing awe at his flying skills and mothering him slightly, respectively. The judges moved down to congratulate him and relate the scores, but at that point Harry was entirely distracted by the shimmering egg. It was awkwardly weighted, seeming to be hollow but thrown off balance by the elaborate ornamentation at the top that spiraled down the gold washed surface. He hefted it experimentally, then looked at the other champions in question. Fleur murmured something about it being rather lovely, but her pursed lips and the slight furrow between her eyebrows spoke to her intense concentration. Viktor simply shrugged and returned his attention to the judges, and Cedric was still hugging him. It took a moment for that to sink in, and in that second it did, Harry felt as if ninety percent of the blood in his body rushed to his face, giving him a brilliant scarlet blush for the world to see. Cedric seemed to suddenly realise he was still holding him as well and abruptly released him, mumbling a half-hearted apology. Harry barely waited until the customary congratulations finished before darting into the crowd, searching for Hermione and finding himself again being crushed.

"Hermione, leggo." She released him and began the usual scolding, littered with compliments on his flying and ingenuity, before dragging him away from the fawning crowd.

"What're the scores?"

"Weren't you paying attention?"

"...Dragon almost burnt me alive..."

"Fine, fine!" She huffed and related the scores; Cedric was in the lead, followed by Harry himself, Fleur, then Viktor. Harry hummed a little in his throat, still examining the egg, when Lucifer flopped down next to him, followed by an infinitely more graceful Azrael. The other Slytherins stood hesitantly to one side, looking to Draco for guidance. The blonde in turn looked to Azrael, who was studiously ignoring him – if he couldn't do _this_, any chance of them marrying and having children was gone. Draco seemed to sense his irritation, and slowly moved forward.

"Congratulations on surviving, Potter." The short Gryffindor eyed him skeptically, searching in vain for the insult, be it in the actual words or in the tone. Finally he shrugged, offering the slightest smile (which was really more akin to a grimace, but no one commented).

"Thanks, Malfoy." Lucifer waited until the awkward silence had settled before darting forward and prying the egg from Harry's hand, holding it just out of his reach when he attempted to reclaim it.

"So – what's in the egg?"

"A clue?" ventured Blaise sarcastically.

"No shit, Sherlock," replied Lucifer absently, running her fingers over the hair-thin line bisecting the egg.

"What?"

"Never mind, Blaise..." She rapped on the textured surface with one fist, holding it up to her ear.

"Nothing." She passed it to Azrael, who cast a series of spells on it, shrugged, and returned it to Harry.

"Open it," he urged, leaning against his twin lazily. Draco finally sat, silently signaling the others to do so as well. Pansy and Blaise flanked him, Millicent sat beside Hermione, and Crabbe and Goyle remained standing, eyeing the gleaming egg questioningly. Harry tried several times to open it – twisting the halves, pulling, 'cracking' it like a real egg – and finally twisted the odd ornament at the top of the oblong metal container. The halves popped apart, and an unearthly shriek rang in the air, fluctuating wildly before Harry finally clamped it shut again, eyes wide. Lucifer slowly removed her hands from her ears, wincing as the quiet flow of curses coming from her twin.

"Gods above and below, what the hell was that?" Harry shook his head dumbly, staring at the innocuous seeming container in horrified awe. Hermione chewed her lip, already mentally listing a variety of possibilities. Draco leaned forward and picked up the awkward thing, tilting it in the light warily. The surface appeared almost scaled; from the ornament at the tip, an abstract swirl ran around the entire egg, spiraling down it with little tendrils flying off in different directions. Pansy leaned over his shoulder, eyeing the tip.

"Doesn't that look like a starfish to you?" He blinked and brought his attention back to the latch; it did resemble a starfish, a bit. If one went out on a limb, they could even say the decorative swirls looked like abstract waves. Harry inched forward, leaning over the egg as well, his and Draco's foreheads almost touching, animosity of the three years previous forgotten.

"Maybe – a little, I guess. But what does that have to do with making our ears bleed?" Azrael and Lucifer shared a look, before intoning in unison, "The Lake." The fourth years all looked at them in bemusement, and Azrael elaborated, "In the Lake – that's where the next task will take place. Merpeople have inhabited the Lake for centuries; they're said to have lovely voices, but only in the water – on land, it sounds like they're shrieking." Hermione nodded, understanding dawning on hr face, before her eyes went dark with confusion again.

"But that isn't a clue, not really – they said it was a clue to the next task's goal, not the location. So we know it has to do with merpeople and takes place in the Lake, but that's still not...there's something we're missing." Harry released a long-suffering sigh and rose stiffly, stumbling a little until Draco absently steadied him.

"We have time – and I'm tired, so if you don't mind..." Hermione rolled her eyes and shooed him toward the castle, following after with Lucifer after saying their goodbyes. Azrael watched them go before rounding on Draco, smirking.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Stuff it, Az..."

* * *

><p>After reluctantly opening the egg again for the masses in the Gryffindor common room, Harry retreated to the boys' dorm with a sheepish Ron in tow; Hermione settled in to research merpeople, leaving Lucifer to entertain herself. She wasted no time getting back outside after stopping by the kitchens to beg food from the house elves; she met a young Dobby, who was all too pleased to assist her, and provided her with a wedge of goat cheese, which she nibbled on as she wandered toward the greenhouses. Azrael had taken up the mantle of matchmaker, trying to get Draco to at least befriend Harry, and Lucifer had no doubt Hermione would do the same for Harry after Azrael explained his reasoning behind it (without the 'they're my fathers and my existence is dependent on them getting together' part,), leaving Lucifer with the task of researching ways to get home – and to wonder what had happened to Albus. The Weasley hadn't reappeared yet, though Dumbledore had hinted he had an idea of where he could be. She knew, of course, that Azrael was worried – she could tell by how little he ate, and the dark circles under his eyes that testified to his lack of sleep. However, they couldn't <em>do <em>anything; as far as she could tell, time travel was one of the more twisted of the magical arts, simply because time did not adhere to the linear nature of the other elements. She sighed and entered the first greenhouse, examining the first plant she encountered – honey pit orchid bushes; the fruit, called honey bores, was often used by confectioners. She lifted one of the rough skinned fruits, noting it was around the harvesting stage.

"Augh! Oh, ah – Lucifer, right?" She turned and barely smothered a smile at the sight of her godfather, carrying several baskets, presumably for the honey bores.

"Yeah – you're Neville Longbottom. Hermione mentioned you're handy with Herbology." She nodded to the honey bores.

"Here for those?"

"Ah..." She didn't bother waiting for a reply, pulling a basket from the stack and approaching the first bush, searching for the release point for the first bore; upon locating it, she pinched the dark brown husk at its base and smile a little as it ejected the paler brown fruit into her hand, its rough skin shiny with sap. She continued, knowing full well from the popping sounds and the sweet scent filling the building that Neville was doing the same. She had finished one row when she felt her twin's presence.

"Harvesting honey bore, huh? We used to do this with godfather all the time..." She laughed a little at his soft comment, knowing he had a grimace on his face; he hated harvest time – hated gardening, really didn't like doing anything that required a lot of mess. She loved rubbing his nose in it, and knew Albus did the same. Her twin was well on his way to becoming an artficer, one of the many wizards who invented things such as the Time Turner, most notable among them being Rowena Ravenclaw. She, on the other hand, had no such obvious talent, but she _did_ like Herbology.

"So you aren't going to help?" He sighed and trudged to the end of the row, picking up a basket and levitating the rest, heading to the next row to begin harvesting. Neville was at the end of his third row, his motions practised as he freed bore after bore, placing them lightly in the basket as he went. They were finishing that entire section when Professor Sprout appeared and, beaming, awarded both Houses fifty points for community service and good citizenship. Azrael filched a couple of the bores as they left, absently examining it as he addressed Neville.

"Exciting year so far, right?" The Gryffindor shrugged, wary of the Slytherin; Azrael didn't seem to notice, locating the slightly raised point on the avacado-like fruit where it had been hanging from the bush, and began to peel it, stowing the single peel (Lucifer hated it when he did that – he did it with orange peels _all _the time!) in his pocket, probably to give to Albus when they found him. He nibbled on the pale fruit, eyes never leaving the fourth year Gryffindor.

"Um – it's exciting, yeah, but it'll be over before we know it." The inane conversation continued, and by the time they reached the castle, Neville had relaxed and Azrael was peeling the third fruit. He tossed that final one to his sister and bade them farewell, walking off with his hands shoved in his pockets, whistling as he went.

"I guess for a Slytherin, he's not so bad..."

"Aw, Slytherins in general aren't so bad, Nev – the House rivalry makes everything seem worse. I bet if you spent the summer with any of them before you came to Hogwarts, you'd be fine with them." The wizard eyed her, then nodded as if agreeing, addressing the Fat Lady with, "Antebellum," before inquiring, "If it's alright – where are your parents?" Lucifer paused, biting her lip; she knew what had happened to Neville's parents, had since a young age, and felt if anything she had to be sensitive about the lie she offered.

"I – well..." She tapered off, unable to think of a plausible lie, and beginning to panic, when Hermione popped up beside them.

"Where have you two been? Never mind, I want you to meet Ron, Lucy." Neville stepped aside to allow the bushy haired witch to drag the blonde inside, smiling a little while he turned Lucifer's reaction over in his head. There couldn't be many reasons for that sort of reaction to what was generally an innocuous question – if she was anything like her brother, he could think of even less.

* * *

><p>Hermione pulled her to where Ron was, per usual, soundly trouncing Harry in a game of wizard's chess. Lucifer sat gingerly, on edge; here was the very man – well, boy, at this point – who had brought her to this position and had been harming her parents, emotionally and politically, for years. Her father had never talked about the fallout, and as far as she could tell, despite the speed bump earlier in the year, they were very close friends right now.<p>

"Ron, this is Lucifer Evans; Lucy, Ron Weasley – he's the twins' younger brother."

"Youngest before Ginny," he supplied, offering his hand while Harry agonized over where to send his knight. She took it with only a little hesitance, allowing a small smile at the firm handshake. Harry finally made his move, and found his queen being bashed to pieces seconds later.

"Uhg..."

"Don't worry, mate – you're getting better!"

"...Lying isn't a positive past time, Ron." The redhead shrugged, as if to say, 'I tried,' before resetting the board.

"Fancy a game, Lucifer?" She eyed the board, then the redhead; her father was a lousy player, but that didn't mean anything as far as the other wizard's skills went.

"Sure. I'm not very good – in fact, I think Harry might even be better than me." No exaggeration; for years, her father had delighted in trouncing her only because he _could_. Draco and Azrael easily wiped the floor with him and Lucifer, so she generally took the scapegoat role out of pity.

By the time the game had ended, she was rather shell-shocked; fourteen year old Ron Weasley was humorous, good-natured, a wicked chess player, and even charming in his own way, despite the lack of an even temper – how the hell had he become the bigot he was in _her _time? Harry had excused himself, and now Hermione was trying to help her win yet another probably doomed game, but she couldn't concentrate, faced with the mystery she was – and if there was anything she knew she'd gotten from her Gryffindor father, it was that bedamned curiosity.

* * *

><p>The next day's breakfast was rocked by an unprecedented event – that of the Golden Trio, accompanied by Lucifer Evans, dining at the Slytherin Table, speaking amiably with their Slytherin counterparts as if the last three years hadn't occurred at all. Severus was relatively certain he'd almost swallowed his fork twice now as a result. Minerva, seated beside him, was in no better shape.<p>

"This – well, I suppose we should be happy," she said uneasily, her Scottish brogue thicker than usual with her hesitance.

"Perhaps this will foster the House unity Albus so craves." Severus didn't bother covering his snort; Minerva had known him long enough not to take offense at his behaviour.

"I suppose you are correct, Minerva," he amended, eyeing the laughing group dubiously, "but I cannot help but wonder if it will be embraced by the other Houses. Yes, Potter and his friends are very much leaders among the school's population, but children are fickle – the potential backlash could be a problem." Minerva nodded glumly, then brightened.

"Well, we shall be thankful for it while it lasts, yes?" She chuckled at his sour expression, and returned to her meal, mind set at ease, but Severus had no such peace of mind. He was plagued by questions about the twins who had undoubtedly been the catalyst of the historic event, and the oddities that followed them.

Both were possessed of Lily's surname and eyes, yet there was no record of any other Evans children in the Wizarding World – the likelihood of two more Muggleborn children from that family was incredibly low. They claimed memory loss after a suspicious alleged attack, by whom they did not know; they could, or would, not name their parents, though they admitted being the children of two wizards – not a rarity, but not exactly common either – and no relatives came forward to claim them, nor did they put forth any names. They made references to things none but some few Order members knew, and did not cite sources for them; they were incredibly advanced magically, save for a strange lack of Defense training, and supposedly had no memory of what school they had attended previous to Hogwarts. They were both English, but that did not rule out the chance of a foreign school; however, inquiries of the sort were met with no knowledge of any Evans family or children possibly orphaned. They also sought their missing friend, an Albus Octavian, no last name, all the more suspicious for it.

However, cementing his suspicions of the two, vague or not, was their lack of reaction to the Dark Lord's name; Albus said it repeatedly in their presence, and neither flinched – they barely seemed to register it as having any importance at all. Such ease came only with great power or being raised by those who did not respect his name – such families barely existed at all, and while he could not rule out great power, that did not strike him as being the reason. It was almost as if they treated the Dark Lord as a non-threat. He was pulled from his thoughts by class, and only spared a moment's thought on partnering Longbottom with the Evans boy – he was competent, if not excellent, at Potions, and would be able to keep Longbottom from causing too much damage, and as a teacher's aide (the position Severus had given him after realizing he not only had a free period, but was good with other students) he offered Severus the chance to focus on those students who required more advanced material but were not quite advanced enough to enter higher classes. The period ended with only one minor explosion, not caused by Longbottom, but by Finnegan, and Severus was again embroiled in his own thoughts, when someone cleared their throat behind him. He started and turned, half expecting a student he could scare off with a sharp dismissal, but instead found Lupin and an exceedingly large mongrel.

"Lupin, Black – what demands you invade my domain and irritate me with your idiotic presences?" He cast a few privacy spells and locked the door, sneering as Black shifted and brushed himself off, glaring.

"We're here about these new students – Evans? Is it true they have Lily's eyes?" Severus paused, momentarily contemplating sabotaging the investigative efforts of the pair, before he nodded. Black sat on one of the tables, ignoring Remus's muttered censure.

"Who the hell are they? Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"What sort of coincidence would that be, Sirius? Lily's eyes and her last name? Be realistic," snapped Lupin, rubbing his temples.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, I agree with Lupin – it cannot be a coincidence. However, they are both blonde, and possessed of features not seen in Lily's family. I briefly considered Potter's but that too isn't probable."

"My cousin brought them?"

"Yes – and she offered no explanation for their presence; she says she found them in Diagon Alley, appearing as if they'd been attacked, and she took them in after they asked to see Albus. Beyond that, there is no record of their existence – even the Ministry is baffled." Black began to fidget, but before Severus could offer a scalding commentary on his juvenile behaviour, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Azrael's voice.

"Professor? May I enter, or is this a bad time?" Severus didn't have to order the mutt to shift back as he unlocked the door and dropped the privacy charms, allowing the Slytherin teen to enter. He carried a small rack of vials, and the Potions Master belatedly remembered the potions he'd asked the boy to brew to test out of Potions entirely and take on an advanced private class with Snape while serving as an aide in his other classes. It would require quite a bit of schedule tweaking, but if Albus's twinkling on the subject was anything to go on, it wouldn't be a large issue.

"Put them on my desk and leave your essays with them." The blonde did as instructed, before asking, "Would you like me to organize the supply closet tonight as to prevent more muddling than usual in the first year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class tomorrow?" Severus barely contained a shudder at the thought and nodded, before remembering his 'guests'.

"Oh, Azrael – this is Remus Lupin; he taught Defense last year." If the boy didn't know he was a werewolf, he would the moment he mentioned him to any of the Slytherins when he returned to the common room. Lupin knew it as well, but kept a calm facade as he offered his hand with a smile. Azrael shook it, eyes flicking to the dog, then back to the werewolf.

"A pleasure, sir – Harry speaks fondly of you." Severus started a bit and quickly tamped down a childish response – he'd forgotten Azrael was friends with the whelp. Remus murmured something friendly and noncommittal, and the teen departed without incident. The moment he was gone, though, Black had shifted back and was gaping at the space he'd been standing in.

"He looks like a _Malfoy_."

"He's friends with Harry?" Severus nodded, remembering that morning.

"He and his twin are all-inclusive – they have friends among all the Houses, and have even bridged the rivalry between Potter and Draco." Black's eyes looked as if they were about to fall out of his skull, and even Lupin looked mildly surprised. Severus continued, repeating the events of that morning while wondering at how far Black's jaw could drop and if it had any relation to how wide his eyes got. Finally the Animagus spluttered indignantly, "Who the hell are these two? Even _Dumbledore _hasn't been able to make a dent in that rivalry! This is – it's-"

"Entirely unprecedented and incredibly suspicious."

"Yes!" Lupin sighed, rubbing his temples again.

"Well – he's safe as long as you and Albus are here, so we shouldn't worry, should we? Sirius, you can talk to Harry later – we have work to do, and I imagine Severus does as well." He then unceremoniously dragged the Animagus out mid-shift, barely bothering with a curt farewell before the door snicked closed behind them.

* * *

><p>Harry found himself again trying to puzzle through the egg, this time with the Evans twins, while sitting out by the Lake, hoping for some sort of inspiration via proximity.<p>

"Well. It shrieks. I've cast a number of water spells at it, and it still shrieks. I don't know what to do next, besides chucking it in the Lake for the squid to have." Lucifer snorted at that, and Azrael grinned a little, before propping himself up on his elbow to watch Cedric and a group of his friends cross the grounds.

"He is really very attractive." Lucifer cracked an eyelid and shrugged.

"Eh – he's okay." Azrael rolled onto his stomach to mock-glare at his sister.

"You haven't a romantic bone in your body, and no sexual tendencies at that – _everyone _is okay to you. He's gorgeous – take it from me."

"If you say so."

"I do; I wonder if he'd date a Slytherin..." Harry blinked once, then again, before the implications of Azrael's statement sank in.

"You're gay?" Azrael looked over his shoulder at him with a smirk, silently relieved; there had been no criticism in the tone, merely surprised wonder.

"Oh yes, he's gay – he stole all my femininity when we were embryos."

"Ew."

"You know it's true." Azrael flipped some of his hair out of his eyes.

"I know no such thing. Now, what do you think, Harry?" The Gryffindor stared at him, visibly confused. Azrael laughed, and nodded to the Hufflepuffs disappearing into the castle.

"Do you think Cedric would date a Slytherin?"

"I-I – um-" He blushed furiously, trying to tamp down the strange bubble of emotion in his stomach – was that _jealousy_? He blushed harder, and finally Lucifer asked, "Are you okay? You look like your head might explode." She paused, eyes narrowing, and began to smirk as the Gryffindor, sensing she knew, blushed even more.

"You _like _him, don't you? Harry James Potter, don't you dare lie!" He tried to cover his flaming face, utterly shocked – he liked guys?

"I – like guys?" As if the world existed to mock him, he heard the click and whir of a camera even as the flash blinded him, and Skeeter's high, amazed laugh rang in his (probably still red) ears.

This was why he didn't like getting out of bed in the mornings – this universal cosmic joke the world seemed to delight in playing on him.

* * *

><p>AN: Couple itty-bitty notes. One: Screw canon. This is barely canon, and speaking of which, look out for Z's rewrite of canon (I don't know what the series will be called, but I will undoubtedly gush over it when she DOES post it). Now! Two: I am altering the champions' relationship with one another - I want them to be closer, like sibs ('cept for Ceddy and Harry - but you'll see how that goes). Three: I have no beta, so there will be little mistakes, and they'll probably drive me up the wall when I see them and I may or may not change them, but feel free to nitpick about them!

Review, or I won't be allowed to do my review dance to Do The Hippogriff (gold, that is), and that would be sad. REVIEW FOR THE GOOD OF THE WIZARDING WORLD!


	4. Chapter 4

Cedric Diggory was not in the habit of paying attention overmuch to the drivel in the Daily Prophet – he preferred to focus on his studies and his friends, and had a good grasp of the outside world without the Prophet's general heresy. However, he was immediately alerted to something momentous (truly momentous, not just mindless idiocy) in the Prophet when he arrived in the Hall later than usual and saw almost every student, including those of the other schools, huddled around a copy of the Prophet. Confused, he sat beside his friend Piers Irons and nudged him gently.

"What's going on, Piers?" The normally stoic sixth year shoved the paper in front of him, looking slightly stunned.

There, splashed across the front page in letters so many inches high as to almost take up half the page themselves, beneath a blushing picture of Harry Potter, were the words, **The Boy Who Lived – Gay? **Rita Skeeter's winking icon pointed to the page number where the main article resided, and he numbly flipped to it, reading with something akin to awe as the reporter detailed the (probably wildly misquoted) conversation between Harry and the Evans twins, purportedly talking about one of the other champions. He slowly dropped the paper, blinking owlishly.

That meant him or Viktor. He twisted in his seat to take in the reactions of the other Houses; he saw Draco Malfoy glowering furiously at the words for reasons unknown, and further down the table Viktor was eating stoically – unaffected by the gossip spreading like a verbal wildfire across the Hall in seconds. Gryffindor table was in an uproar, in contrast to the quiet, icy murmurs of Slytherin; the majority of Hufflepuff, while gossiping, was in one of two modes – fangirling, complete with squeals and dreamy expressions, and just commenting mildly, though a few homophobes were making their opinions known (loudly) at the far end of the table. Ravenclaw, ever the intellectuals, were discussing the merits of Rita Skeeter's words, the possibility of it being true, and the variety of couples (in other words, Ravenclaw's version of fangirling) available should the rumour prove to be true. Piers pulled the paper back to him, rereading the article rapidly, before looking up and asking, "Where _is _Potter? Do you think he's seen this?" Cedric blinked, shook his head, and picked up his own copy of the Prophet, departing with the explanation of, "I need to talk to someone," before he began to search for the Evans twins who were also missing.

* * *

><p>He found both the twins and Harry in one of the greenhouses – the twins were trying to calm Harry, and Harry seemed to be either crying or yelling; Cedric couldn't really tell as he drew closer.<p>

"This is _exactly _why I hate being a _celebrity_," he snapped, burying his face in his hands while Azrael hugged his shoulders gently, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Harry, we're so sorry – we had no idea she'd be out there-"

"No, no – it's not your fault." He laughed, the sound watery and weak.

"I guess this is just – I would have liked to find out, you know, privately, without the whole world finding out with me..." Azrael sighed and nodded. Lucifer was sitting on Harry's other side, nearer the door, and so heard Cedric before the others. She paused, eyes narrowed at the door, eyes that promptly widened when Cedric entered slowly, looking down at Harry with concern.

"Harry?" The brunette jerked away from Azrael and stared at the Hufflepuff in horror, eyes widening almost comically. The twins exchanged looks, and slowly began to leave, watching Harry closely to see if he'd balk or flee. The Gryffindor seemed to be dredging up courage, because he took a deep breath and met Cedric's gaze steadily, replying evenly, "Cedric. How are you?" Both twins decided to make themselves scarce (and see if they couldn't sniff out Rita Skeeter, if she was in the area,), leaving the two champions to talk.

Harry watched the Hufflepuff more closer, wary. The Hufflepuff was wringing a copy of the Prophet in his hands and chewing his bottom lip almost absently, and making his mouth all the more distracting for the hormonal fourteen year old. He had to admit, Azrael was right – the Hufflepuff was really, _really _handsome. The older wizard suddenly sighed and dropped the paper, sitting next to the Gryffindor hesitantly.

"Um...well..." He finally dragged his fingers through his hair and came out with it, saying shortly, "You fancy me?" The brunette turned bright red, and it was all Cedric could do not to kiss him just to see if he'd get redder.

"I – um, well, see, it's-" The rest of his stuttered explanation, if it was ever finished, was muffled by the warm clash of lips in an awkward, sweet kiss. Cedric steadied the startled Gryffindor and deepened the kiss slowly, smiling a bit when the younger wizard began to respond hesitantly, then urgently. He curled his fingers into his dark, messy hair, gently slipping his tongue between the seal of their lips, asking for entrance. There was a moment of hesitation and Cedric wondered if he was going too fast, when those soft lips parted, and he was rewarded with the warm, honeyed depths of Harry's mouth. He really did taste like honey – in fact, he tasted like honey bore, a slightly sweet honey and banana flavour that was generally used to bring out stronger flavours in chocolates. He felt the shorter teen begin to pull away and broke the kiss, breathing hard as he stared down into those blown pupils, the sliver of green around them still breathtakingly luminescent. He started when he felt one of Harry's smaller hands twine with his, and sat motionless as he raised it slowly to his chest and rested it there; he could feel the other boy's frantic heartbeat, and it only made him all the more breathless. They stared into each other's eyes, and finally Harry laughed softly, wiping away the few traces of tears with his free hand.

"I guess I do fancy you." He looked down, then met his eyes again, smile uncertain.

"I guess you fancy me too."

* * *

><p>Draco had retreated from breakfast rather put out; no, put out wasn't the right term – he was, to put it lightly, furious. It was an irrational reaction, but one he couldn't push aside; it wasn't mere fury at meddling reporters or his apparently malfunctioning gaydar, but fury spurred by jealousy at a <em>Hufflepuff, <em>of all things.

He had a crush on Harry Potter, and Harry Potter was infatuated with Cedric Diggory.

He couldn't quite express how pissed that made him. He'd been denying the crush for years – the crush that he was certain had developed in second year, right after that failed duel where Hogwarts had discovered Harry – _Potter_ – was a Parselmouth. He'd piled insults and mockery on it, trying to push it out of existence with a pathetic mockery of hate that had lessened into some sort of sad rivalry by the time third year ended, and then Azrael Evans, damn him to hell, had to show up and force bloody _friendship _down his throat! He'd known, he'd been so _certain_, that this would end badly, and still he'd attempted it!

"Draco!" And now he had Muggleborn Gryffindors calling him by his first name running after him in the halls.

Jupiter strike him dead now.

"What, Granger?" he drawled icily, eyes narrowed as the bushy haired Gryffindor bounced up to him, pausing to catch her breath.

"Have – have you seen Harry?" She hadn't missed the use of her last name and knew very well that Draco was angry – though why, she couldn't say. The blonde stared at her stonily, then finally replied shortly, "No. I have not, as a matter of fact, seen Potter." Hermione wrinkled her nose and looked at Ron, who stepped back and began to whistle. She turned her attention back to the blonde and put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. Draco was suddenly, fearfully reminded of their third year, and inched back some, just out of arm's length.

"Draco Malfoy, what is your problem? I know for a fact that you're gay, so this isn't homophobia – so what is it?" Ron coughed something incomprehensible under his breath, and Hermione whirled to face him.

"What?"

"...Malfoy's got a crush on Harry – don't you, Malfoy?" For a moment, all 'Malfoys don't' rules flew out of his perfectly coiffed head, and he gaped outright at the smirking (_smirking_? What? What in all hells!) redhead, who just smirked more and looked smug. Hermione too had adopted the 'fish who is perpetually shocked or maybe just had too much Botox' expression, which only increased the smug expression on Ron's face.

"Draco! What – what the hell is wrong with your face?" Draco's mouth snapped closed, and he glared at Blaise, who coughed and began to whistle, trying to pretend his friend wasn't trying to incinerate him with his eyes (and a good thing Draco's no mutant, eh?).

"My face is impeccable, Zabini. Uncouth plebeian." Zabini shrugged, grinning, as the rest of the group appeared.

"So, is it true?" Pansy asked Ron and Hermione, who both shrugged.

"Harry's really private. Doesn't talk about personal stuff much – if it doesn't have to do with You-Know-Who, it's not relevant," muttered Ron, smugness finally gone. Hermione nodded, eyes moving past the Slytherins to a familiar pair of blonde heads bent together near the Hall's doors.

"Azrael, Lucifer!" Both twins jumped a bit and winced in unison, before joining them – Lucifer trotting, Azrael strolling.

"Have you-"

"He's out in one of the greenhouses talking to Cedric – presumably clearing the air. Chill." Draco saw red and found himself struggling to remain calm. Only a chance glance in Azrael's direction tipped the twins off, and Lucifer, realising her mistake, grimaced and moved forward as if to restrain him.

"Guys!" The group started in unison and turned to see Harry running down the corridor to them, skidding a little and almost colliding with Draco. The blonde caught and steadied him, then as if realising suddenly that this was the object of his affections, released him abruptly, throwing him off balance again. This time Azrael caught him, shooting the other blonde a warning look that, predictably, he shrugged off, turning his attention to the other Slytherins.

"If we're done here – we have class." Harry blinked and gazed after him in bewilderment as he stalked off, Slytherins in tow, Azrael throwing an apologetic glance over his shoulder as they went. He looked to the other Gryffindors in question and received only shrugs and head shakes. Bewildered and slightly put out, he trudged to class, mind buzzing with questions.

* * *

><p>"What on the gods' earth is a Yule Ball?"<p>

"Harry!"

"Hermione, I've been distracted – no, I wasn't paying attention, no, I generally don't, Voldemort killed my parents."

"..."

"Just saying." Lucifer tried to cover up a snigger and failed, earning a smack to the shoulder from the irritable bushy haired witch.

"The Yule Ball is a TriWizard Tournament tradition!" Harry settled into his lunch, only half listening to Hemione's undeniably long explanation, complete with citations, but he got the (horrific) gist of it.

"How're you going to do this, mate? You're as bent as Dumbledore – you think they'd let you bring a bloke?" Harry grimaced and shrugged, eyes wandering the Hall as he unconscious cataloged possible dates.

"They'll expect you to bring a girl, Harry, preferences aside," commented Hermione, rummaging in her book-clogged bag for something or other. Lucifer nodded, then winced at the puppy dog expression sent her way by the small brunette.

"Never in a thousand years, Harry – sorry, but I don't do balls. I'll probably hide away with the first years – help with homework and the like."

"But Lucifer!"

"No. Azrael might cross-dress if you ask nicely – we look enough alike." Harry blinked, then tilted his head a little as if he was seriously considering it.

"Come on, Harry, I'm sure any of the girls would love to go with you," Ron encouraged him.

"But I have to _ask_." Ron shrugged and returned to his meal, ignoring the pleading expression his best friend sent him and easily shifting out of the way of Hermione's elbow without looking up once. Harry groaned a little and stared longingly at Cedric's back as he mused again on who'd he'd ask, oblivious to the silver glare that should have been burning the skin off his back.

* * *

><p>"Draco, stop glaring – they wouldn't let the champions go with one another even if they weren't two males." Pansy tapped the back of his hand with a fork to punctuate her point, regaining his attention momentarily before he returned to glaring.<p>

"Besides, Draco, you're hurting Harry's feelings – he can't figure out why you're being a git again." Azrael finally turned the other blonde bodily so that he was facing him.

"Stop it – it's unbecoming of a Malfoy, and entirely unwarranted in general." Silver eyes flashed almost guiltily at the reference to his family's expectations, and settled for being sullen instead. Azrael rolled his eyes at the pout and asked, "How would you feel if you were Harry? He doesn't know how you feel about him – you certainly never _told _him." Draco huffed, and Pansy sighed.

"Give it up, Azrael – he's in a mood, and when he gets like this, it's best to retreat while you're still in one piece." Blaise nodded, nibbling on a honey bore as he reviewed an essay for Charms. Azrael began to continue on the topic, but was cut off by Millicent asking, "Who are you going with, Azrael? Your sister says she isn't going."

"Like hell she isn't. She's coming with me – I'm as bent as Harry, there's no way I'm going alone."

"You wouldn't be going alone regardless – we always go to these events as a group, to avoid messy dating issues." Azrael raised an eyebrow at that, and Blaise shrugged.

"You're as Slytherin as we are – you understand that we can't leave anyone hanging, especially not at a social event."

"True, that."

* * *

><p>Lucifer yelped and almost fell out of the uncomfortable chair when Hermione basically materialized out of thin air in the middle of the Restricted Section, looking somewhere between furious and bemused.<p>

"Hermione, are you _trying _to bring Pince down on us?"

"Do you know what he did?" The blonde blinked, then asked warily, "He who?"

"Ronald!" Oh dear. Full name. Lucifer pushed the book she'd been scanning aside, leaning forward – this was the time to play the dutiful girlfriend, instead of researching.

"What did he do this time?"

"He asked me to the Ball!" Lucifer waited patiently, knowing very well that wasn't what had set her off.

"As a last resort! I – the _nerve_." The blonde understood immediately; Hermione cared for Ron – though at this point both were hideously oblivious, and it was driving her crazy – and the 'last resort' status she'd been dropped into chafed.

"Well, you _do _have a date, yes?"

"Well-"

"Viktor Krum seems interested."

"Viktor – Viktor _Krum_? The-"

"Durmstrang champion, yes. In fact!" She shot to her feet.

"I'll even play owl for you."

"Wait, Lucifer-" Hermione gaped as the blonde sashayed off, disappearing around a few shelves. A few minutes passed while Hermione frantically listed her options if this turned out to be a humiliating rejection, when the blonde returned, smug.

"There. You have a date." She smirked at the stunned expression on the fourteen year old's face and returned to her research.

"Ron can go rot, for all I care – he should know better."

* * *

><p>"She's going with <em>who<em>?" Harry rubbed his ears and continued to attempt to transfigure the hideous pile of cloth that someone was trying to pass as dress robes for Ron while the ginger wizard ranted about fraternizing (the term made no sense to Harry – Hermione was a girl, so the root was confusing...) with the enemy (conveniently forgetting his own status as fluttering fan no few months earlier) and so on and so forth. The brunette judged this as a clever attempt at making Ron jealous, and it was working superbly. As that thought crossed his mind, the dress robes turned a brilliant Slytherin green, though some splotches were still mauve, horrifyingly. He winced and began the process of trying to undo his shoddy work – again.

* * *

><p>Draco watched Azrael lay out outfit after outfit, examining each person's choice personally. Draco hadn't expected this level of Malfoy-esque neurosis, and was rather pleased that someone else cared so much about their appearance.<p>

"So far, only you and Blaise have passed – Blaise is wearing that lovely bronze and green ensemble, the Egyptian inspired one, and you have the all black with silver and dark green." He eyed it, then turned.

"Pansy's was too – clashing. She managed to make it look good, but it was an eyesore nevertheless. Millie hasn't actually chosen anything, and I need to raid her closet tonight. Greg and Vincent managed to look exactly alike, and I can't even – it just would be awful. So!" He nodded to the previously mentioned pair's outfits.

"Transfigure one or both of those to fitting standards – I'll go and deal with Pansy, and we three will gang up on Millie later." Draco nodded, watching the silver Snitch he'd released earlier that evening flit about the room.

"What will you be wearing, Azrael?"

"Something entirely unacceptable in your normal circles, I'm sure." The younger blonde stirred, eyeing the older wizard.

"Oh really?"

"Mm, yes – we might match, though, and I don't think...no, that won't work." He pursed his lips, then turned to the outfits again.

"Hmm...If I can get Luc to change some of her colours...that might work." He studiously ignored the silent question from Draco, still mulling over it, when he snapped.

"Perfect – now!" He strode to the door.

"Pansy! I know you're eavesdropping – come in already, and bring that trunk I know you have as well." The door opened and the dark haired Slytherin witch strode in with a mock pout, levitating her trunk behind her. Azrael pounced on it in a fashion reminiscent to a lion upon a gazelle, and began to build, from the ground up, a more suitable fashion choice. By the time dinner had begun, he decided she was acceptable and shooed her off, hanging the choices in their respective areas.

"Do you know who Harry's going with, Draco?"

"I hear he asked Chang – the Ravenclaw – but she's going with Diggory. The irony makes me feel positively gleeful." Azrael rolled his eyes at that, and waited for the gloating blonde to finish.

"He and Weasley are going with the Patil twins."

"Oh, are they? I imagine they'll clash...and neither Harry nor Ron will let me fix their outfits, though that mauve _atrocity _should be burned." He sighed mournfully, ignoring the ribbing from Draco as they joined the others at Slytherin table.

* * *

><p>"Azrael, we're going to be late!"<p>

"Go without me – I need to make sure Lucifer is ready."

"Don't leave me with him!"

"Bye, Lucifer." Lucifer groaned and slid down the door, clawing at it in a manner similar to that of a cat.

"Apollo, no – don't leave meeee..." Azrael rolled his eyes at her melodrama and muttered something akin to, 'Drama queen...', before snapping, "Oh, do stand up! We need to finish getting ready." His twin huffed and did as told, smoothing her hands over the tuxedo–inspired dress she wore.

Their ensembles complemented each other in construction and colour palette; her twin wore a modified tuxedo even as she wore the dress, and both wore cuff links, gloves, and had changed out their tongue rings for their original matching pair. Azrael's look consisted of oak green, antique gold, and cream; black eyeliner and shimmering gold eyeshadow made his eyes look larger and slightly slanted. A cream shirt, green bowtie, black tuxedo, gold and green cufflinks (made to resemble lightning shrouded oak leaves, in homage to Jupiter), and leather boots (thought no one could technically see they were boots) finished the look.

Lucifer's tuxedo dress was worn over a blood red shirt shirt and silver tights; a pair of antique silver pumps finished with a blood red bow graced both feet, and a matching hat was perched on brilliant ringlets that fell around her shoulders in cascades. She too had cufflinks – bronze starbursts with red lyres that occasionally played small tunes. She'd had a monocle that Azrael had stolen earlier on and hidden, knowing full well that while he found the whole look charming, Mad-Eye would probably find an excuse to confiscate it (for some equally mad reason).

"Well – are you done primping?"

"I don't primp. Come on, Lolita."

"Hey!"

* * *

><p>The Slytherins ooh'd and ahh'd over the twins, giving them time to preen as the first dance began and wound down (during which time Lucifer and Azrael discovered that their father's assertion that he couldn't dance was entirely true, and painfully so,). Draco and Pansy (wearing a muted rose and lilac outfit that faintly resembled a flower) led the second dance, and the twins the third, garnering surprised applause at their superior footwork. They were both silently thanking the gods for their neurotic Gryffindor father's terror of his children being unable to dance, and subsequent hiring of dance instructors, when the doors to the Great Hall creaked open unexpectedly. No one was expecting any more arrivals (the twins had made a grand entrance, made all the more grand by their later than fashionably late timing), if Dumbledore's expression was anything to go on. Azrael and Lucifer both moved forward to see clearer who had arrived.<p>

At first, they noticed the tall, regal woman with her incredibly witchy hat (few others could pull off those feathers and not look ridiculous); they only noticed the blonde man shooing them in after that, and he soon was forgotten when two pairs of green eyes fell on a familiar face – and relief coursed through them.

Though few portraits of the Founders remained in the school, for reasons unknown, most had a good idea of what Godric Gryffindor had looked like. The newcomer, a teen around the same age as Azrael and Lucifer themselves, was a passable lookalike of the House of Lion's founder. Though his eyes were brown and the Founder's were a dark gold, the uncanny resemblance left everyone dumbstruck for a good moment, before Lucifer's relived cry of, "Alby!" broke the tension, and the twin blondes shot forward, engulfing the shorter wizard in a collective bear hug. His laughter further released what little tension had lingered, and Dumbledore, after clearing his throat, greeted the woman, "Madame Longbottom. What an unexpected pleasure. And this is...?"

"Albus Octavian Longbottom, Headmaster – a long-lost cousin, as it were." The twins released the chuckling wizard and remained beside him, eyes flicking unconsciously first to Ron, then to Neville, who seemed strangely unaffected by this news, false as it was – as if he'd had some knowledge of it. The Headmaster urged the ball to continue, before leading the four away, soon joined by a smiling Neville.

"Mr. Longbottom – I suppose you and your grandmother understand the circumstances under which these three have come to be here?"

"Yes, Headmaster – though I never would have imagined time travel possible previously." Lucifer paused, then turned.

"You _knew_?"

"I made an educated guess, and my grandmother, after discovering Albus in the woods near our home, corroborated it." Albus laughed sheepishly, saying, "I didn't know what was going on, and didn't know what Prof-Neville's grandmother looked like. I ended up telling her everything after I found out the date." He accepted another impromptu hug from Azrael, grinning.

"You two are alright?"

"Yeah – we've been here since the first task."

"I heard about that."

"'Twas spectacular, that." Dumbledore cleared his throat, returning attention to himself.

"Where, exactly, do you plan on staying, Mr. – ah, Longbottom?" Albus bit his lip, looking uncertain.

"Well...I would normally say Sort me into Slytherin, but...something tells me that might not be prudent. I'll – have to see. By tomorrow morning, I'll be able to tell you."

"Very well. Back to the festivities with you, then!" He shooed them off, leading Neville's grandmother back to the Head Table. The twins performed introductions, when Lucifer stopped short.

"We should find Professor Snape – he'd like to know he has two Potions geniuses in the school."

"Luc, Alby makes me look like Ron."

"Ha – nice comparison." Albus shrugged, eyes flicking to aforementioned wizard. Azrael, noticing, said, "He's actually not that bad in this time – I don't know why. I guess whatever happened really changed him, because he's genuinely a good guy at this point." The ex-Weasley shrugged again and murmured something noncommittal, before wandering off.

"I hope he's okay," said Azrael, eyes softening as he watched Albus disappear into a group of Durmstrang students. Lucifer eyed him appraisingly, then nodded in agreement, turning her attention back to the ball and her own thoughts.

* * *

><p>Harry sat on a low bench in the gardens, watching the silver and blue fairy lights weave in and out of the frosted roses glittering around him. Cedric sat beside him, an arm around his waist, chin resting on top of his head.<p>

"Having fun?"

"I think I ruined the party for Parvati."

"I think she was fine – she and Padme found Durmstrang students to dance with while Ron pouted. Why _was _he so unhappy?"

"'Mione came with Krum..." Cedric hmm'd in understanding.

"Ah – jealousy, then." Harry shrugged, murmuring, "He asked her – but as a last resort. She was pretty put out, but Lucifer got her a date with Viktor – and they've been getting along swimmingly." He yawned and leaned his head against Cedric's chest, staring at a pair of particularly agile fairy lights dancing around a small rose blooming against a larger one. He chuckled a little at the poetic beauty of it, when Cedric gently cupped his jaw and lifted his head, lowering his own until their lips were almost touching.

"The Evans twins have a knack for that, don't they?"

"What?"

"Matchmaking..." Harry's answer, if he even had one, was muffled by their lips touching and melding. Harry melted into the hot sweetness he came to associate with Cedric's kiss, sighing into the heat and leaning closer even as Cedric deepened the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair. He shivered and moaned a little, blushing even as Cedric took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into his mouth, enticing another moan from the other wizard, when rustling and hurried footsteps retreating from the area startled them from the bliss. Harry gazed around, dazed, and Cedric sighed.

"Well – we should get back then, shouldn't we?"

* * *

><p>Severus rubbed his temples, eyeing the teen who had appeared earlier that night, distraught, and collapsed onto his couch, falling unconscious there. Draco was not prone to these flagrant displays of emotion – a Malfoy born and raised, he was used to a choking pureblood atmosphere that demanded one resist and control their emotions with an iron fist in public and semi-private conditions. This was unexpected and unprecedented, and Severus knew exactly what had caused it.<p>

Harry Potter. _Again_. The first time he'd had to endure his godson's rants on that topic (and he'd endured them many a time since) was when he'd rejected his friendship; Severus had understood both sides of _that _incident, unfortunately, and couldn't blame Potter for his reaction. However, it had left him with the unsavory task of trying to curb Draco's growing anger with every passing year – he had no doubts that had the twins not intervened, the rivalry would have exploded into hate, and with as volatile a pair as Draco and Potter were, it would have been a lethal feud. Now, however, he wondered what had happened to over him an event so similar to that in Draco's first year. Irritated, he found himself with no choice but to consult the two who seemed to know everything that went on nowadays.

The twins seemed to have been practicing a variation of the Headmaster's twinkle; seated across from him, their eyes seemed to glow with knowing amusement. He was far from pleased.

"As I imagine you both know, Draco came to me last night rather...distraught." Could they tell how much he hated depending on them for information?

"You're wondering what happened." Azrael's amused glow faded into something harsher – worry, anger?

"Indeed." Lucifer examined the grain of the desk's wood, and spoke without looking up.

"Harry – as you undoubtedly learned from the Prophet – recently discovered his sexual preferences, and they have turned out to be in line with those of Cedric Diggory. The two of them have connected; I would go so far as to say they are in a relationship. Given my knowledge of Draco's feelings about Harry, this doesn't sit well with him." Why couldn't his godson have been asexual and therefore unlikely to find himself in such a position? Severus barely contained a snort; he wouldn't have been Draco if he had been the cold, unfeeling creature that would have avoided such scenarios. His short-lived humour aside, he found himself cursing everything that could have even in the most miniscule of ways influenced the event – he was at a complete loss as to what to do. Finally, he looked to the twins, knowing they'd understand without making him say it. Azrael cleared his throat.

"There isn't much we can do, except possibly have Draco tell Harry how he feels."

Because the carnage that would ensue as a result was a fantastic thought. Severus's scowl said everything he did not, and Lucifer, interpreting (correctly) his displeasure at the idea, said, "We can talk to them, professor, but there's only so much we can do – they're teenage boys." She shrugged.

"I'd say let them work it out with minimal interference. Talk to them every now and then. It'll blow over." The Potions Master stared at her, then sighed and nodded, dismissing them without another word.

He prayed she was right.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore had been crucial in convincing the paranoid ex-Death Eater Headmaster that Albus would be no problem among Durmstrang's students, but it was Viktor and Severus who convinced him.<p>

Albus had, upon being introduced (again...or would that be for the first time? Lucifer broke several fragile items trying to figure this one out.) Severus, had proven his mettle again and again as a tutor and additional aide, and without the technicalities of being a student at Hogwarts, he was far better able to assist the Potions Master, allowing for a surprising spike in Potions grades that year. However, he could only do so much before there was nothing but menial tasks to do, and then Severus generally shooed him from the room, often with a derisive comment about whittling away the hours with meaningless prattle with friends. Though he enjoyed the company of his old and new friends, he found himself put more on edge by the idea of befriending those who he knew as friends (or merely classmates) of his parents, and his parents themselves. The discomfort drove him to the other schools, and he quickly found himself in a fraternal relationship with one Viktor Krum. The novelty of having an older 'brother' who accepted him for who he was only made him more inclined to him, and soon enough he was living among the Durmstrang students as a guest of the Headmaster (which was entirely the result of Viktor threatening Karkaroff). It was in this atmosphere that the second task began, and brought the players of an entirely different game all the closer to the final play.

* * *

><p>AN: Do none of you have a heart? I say review for cheese, and all y'all review. Review for the Wizarding World lest I destroy it, and I get nothing. -heart breaks- Seriously, though – I generally write for reviews; I like to know how people feel about my writing, and furthermore, what I can improve on (I know dialogue has been a problem...I'm working on it). So! While I totally love those of you who fav'd this piece (and rarely me) or put it on alert (again, this occasionally happens to me), reviews make my world turn, especially since I don't have school right now. Review = brain works harder = I write faster = updates generally occur more frequently.

I supposed I SHOULD apologise - I got distracted by Forsaken World mid-way through this, so it seems a little off to me. ...That, and it's not beta'd (which I'm relatively certain I've mentioned before).

P.S. One; "Voldemort killed my parents" is for Z. Two; Within Temptation and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra = love.


	5. Chapter 5

The second task, once Harry was thoroughly ribbed for his heroism (or lack of rational thought, depending on who was talking), came and went with little fanfare, and again the school went through a sort of calm before the storm, the muted anticipation as the days wore on before the third trial. However, a certain trio found themselves again hidden behind stacks of books, irritation and fear bubbling within as the twins remembered the tale their father had grudgingly told them after a stray comment from Neville brought the TriWizard Tournament to their attention.

They had to make a choice. They knew, logically, that interrupting and altering the events of time could be – no, would absolutely be – dangerous and possibly fatal to them, but the chance to possibly save a life burned in the back of their minds. Albus had agreed with Lucifer that they couldn't let Cedric die when they could stop it from happening; Azrael refused to interfere, fearing the consequences to them and the Wizarding World at large.

"What if he had to die? What if it was what Father needed to spur him to defeat Voldemort? We cannot interfere!"

"This is someone's _life_."

"It could be the death of the entire world if we make the wrong choice, Amelia!" Albus winced and laid a hand on the blonde boy's shoulder, murmuring softly, "Stop, both of you. We can't argue about this right now – we need to think everything through." Lucifer looked away even as Azrael shrugged him off, and for a moment neither spoke, struggling with their considerable pride. Finally, the male Slytherin flipped open another book, muttering, "I wish Father hadn't been so vague...I understand that his school years were hard, and he wants nothing more than to shelter us, but you never know when you'll need information like that."

"Wish we could tell him who we are."

"He and Pater are on thin ice with one another as is – that would be far from prudent..." Lucifer snorted, then laughed outright.

"We're so wrong." Azrael stared at her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

"I know it's because Pater raised us to act as he would have acted – without the unfortunate blood status idiocy – but are we not the most uptight fifteen year olds in this school?" He rolled his eyes at the off-topic comment, feeling a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. He was still angry – angry that she couldn't seem to see past the fact that they could not interfere, that such a shift in time could very well destroy everything they knew and loved – but he could push it away, if only for this truce she was silently offering. He felt Albus relax beside him and sighed, turning his eyes back to the books.

"What do we know?"

"Father and Cedric reached the cup at the same time, grabbed it, it was a Portkey to a graveyard, Wormtail killed Cedric – and then something happened to bring Voldemort back," concluded Lucifer lamely, eyes flicking to her twin, who grimaced.

"That's it," he agreed, gazing around the library. Of late, more people had begun to question what they were doing – they hadn't been nearly as careful as they probably should have been, and already too many knew about their circumstances. Perhaps if Dumbledore had been the only one, they would have more wiggle room, but the chances of someone discovering them and causing more damage to the chronological events of the world (they'd already done some damage – it was inevitable, wasn't it?) grew constantly with more and more people in on the information. Lucifer twisted her tie around her fist, then dropped her head against the desk with a loud thump, turning her head to stare at the bookshelf beside her.

"What now?" she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. Fingers curled into the fabric of her tie, eyes clenching shut.

"It's all fine to pretend that we're kings and queens in a castle protected by the most powerful wizard of his time – but we're just _children. _A war is about to break out, and we – we're worried about going _home_?" She stared at her brother and best friend, then at Albus.

"Look at what they've had to deal with! Now, it seems like fun and games, and we really don't know what's happened – but we know what _will _happen. What if we can't go back? What if this is it for us?" The witch lifted her head, rising from the table to splay her hands across the shelf, with its leather bindings and peeling gold and silver leaf, and the musty scent of rarely moved parchment. A teardrop stained the top of an oddly jutting out book, and she started, swiping a hand across her eyes. The tears continued, and she sat hard, slightly stunned.

"We can't go back, can we?" she asked, tears streaming down her face. Azrael produced a handkerchief, slightly stunned himself – his sister didn't _cry_.

"Don't talk like that," he murmured, dabbing at her eyes gently. Albus busied himself with cleaning up their research, disappearing behind the shelves, leaving the twins to themselves.

He couldn't quite relate – he couldn't bring himself to sit and endure the twinges in his stomach as he watched the ever-so-composed Lucifer break down.

Her fears were valid; they had no way of knowing if they could get back, and despite their familial bravado and stoicism, he knew they loved their parents dearly and probably missed them awfully – and here he was, hoping they never got back. He winced at that thought, dropping one of the books.

"Bloody-" He scooped it up and stuffed it onto its shelf, chewing his lip. The twins were wasting their time trying to figure out what had happened to make his father the bastard he was in their time – bad blood begets evil, and that was that.

"Hey." He barely bit off a yelp and whirled around, wand level with Ron's eyes. The other redhead held up his hands, one eyebrow raised.

"Jumpy much?" he quipped, lowering his hands as Albus lowered his wand.

"Sorry," muttered the other wizard, again busying himself with the books. The ginger teen didn't respond, folding his arms.

"What do you want?" Albus finally inquired, tossing the question over his shoulder. Ron shrugged, replying, "Viktor asked me to help him find something back here – saw you and thought you could use some help." Albus looked at the pile of books he would no doubt have to spend another hour reshelving, then looked at Ron.

"You don't like the library," he replied shortly, continuing his task. The redhead shrugged again, eyes wandering.

"It's almost over," he said softly, eyes slightly unfocused. Albus froze, eyes locking onto his father.

"What?" The Weasley continued to stare, and something like a shudder ran through his body, before his eyes cleared, and he blinked.

"Huh. Well," he said, offering Albus an odd, tight smile, "it was nice talking to you." He walked out without another word, leaving the other wizard to the pile of books and his likely still emotional friends. A moment passed where he did nothing more than stare blankly at the shelves, when Viktor appeared, looking puzzled.

"Albus! I didn't know you were here." He leaned over his shoulder, eyeing the titles Albus had been replacing on the shelf.

"Time magic, hmm? Advanced magic even for adults," he commented, looking uninterested. Albus shrugged, smiling.

"Research for Professor Snape – the ability to extend a potion's shelf life could save lives." The Bulgarian Seeker shrugged, and Albus dropped it, content that Viktor wouldn't look any further into it – however, the same could not be said for others.

* * *

><p>Severus was not in the habit of 'snooping', as he recalled Lupin calling it once (such a vulgar term for what he had made into an art! Unwillingly, of course – he didn't <em>enjoy<em> his job...), and certainly not in the Headmaster's office. However, with the final task of the TriWizard Tournament approaching and the feeling of dread growing in him, he'd found himself doing just that, to no avail.

"Damn Potter and his brat friends – could this have happened to anyone else?" Fawkes gave him a look as if to say, 'It wouldn't have happened at all if it weren't Harry Potter', and Severus had to agree. However, that didn't change the fact that something in the shadows was growing restless, and there was something brewing that they wouldn't be able to stop.

"Severus, my boy!" Damn. Old. Man. He fought the urge to scream with frustration and painted a tight smile on his face for the Headmaster, who beamed in reply, sitting behind his desk.

"Have you figured out what has happened to those Potions ingredients young Albus noticed were missing?"

"No, I have not, Headmaster, but I believe we should be alert to the possibility of someone brewing Polyjuice Potion in the castle," he replied stiffly, preparing to leave.

"Severus – how is your Mark?" The Potions Master froze, eyes widening. Dumbledore noticed immediately and rose again, eyes glittering with concern.

"Severus?" The spy didn't answer, fingers clenching spasmodically as things he'd pushed off to the back of his mind came hurtling forward, falling into place with imagined clicks.

"He's growing stronger," he breathed, turning back to Dumbledore, face ashen. The Headmaster moved closer.

"Severus, please – it is impossible-"

"Damn it, Albus, don't patronize me! I'm not the Minister – I-" he faltered and stopped altogether, pulling away minimally, eyes darkening as he regained his composure.

"I will inform the other professors to be on high alert," the Headmaster finally said, watching the younger wizard's face closely.

"If that is all?" The Potions Master nodded, sweeping to the door.

"That is all, Albus." He stalked out of the office, frustration making him surlier than usual. Even Albus and Azrael gave him a wide berth for the rest of the day, leaving him to his frustrations and thoughts. It was that night that he received a pair of generally unwanted guests, but for reasons a mystery to him at the time, endured them.

"Again, Lupin, Black?" The Animagus collapsed into a seat across from him, eyeing the pile of essays with something akin to vicious glee he was attempting to smother. Severus just wanted to smother him, period. The werewolf lowered himself wearily into a seat beside his friend, eyes solemn.

"Well?" snapped Severus, patience wearing thin. The werewolf didn't respond, and Black fidgeted, muttering something almost inaudible.

"What, Black?" The Animagus groaned and snapped, "There's suspicions that another Dark object has gotten into the school, alright? Albus wants us – all three of _us_ – to look into it. Furthermore, he's _requested _we stop looking into the Evans twins and their friend."

"..."

"Damn it, Snape, you know as well as I do that that's suspicious – I might trust him, but I was in Azkaban for _how long_ before there was even a whisper of my innocence from him? I can't trust him completely!" Lupin sighed and nodded, absently placing a calming hand on Black's wrist.

"We were hoping to see Harry – for a short period of time. I know you're probably tired, but if you could perhaps...give him detention or something..." Or something? How else would he ever be able to secure the brat? Severus nodded tightly, irritation struggling to boil over. Black seemed to sense that, or perhaps his own dislike of Severus was coming through, because he was soon unceremoniously herding Lupin from the room with little more than a sharp glare to the Potions Master before they disappeared. The Slytherin's Head of House didn't bother dwelling on the two mother hens, focusing instead on yet another atrocious essay.

* * *

><p>Albus stared in slight disgust at the wavering lines of barely legible faux cursive scrawl covering the essay in front of him, and looked up to see how Harry was doing. He was again doing menial labour – Albus thought he might still be stunned by Severus's sharpness with him earlier, if the robotic motions of his cleaning was anything to go on – before going back to bed, allowed to sleep the next day away before the final trial. Albus absently wondered if he should offer to take the essays back to his rooms with Durmstrang, letting the far from inconspicuous Animagus who'd been shadowing Severus see his godson. He snorted and decided to do that, gathering the essays and leaving with a short word to Severus, who waved him off with little more than a nod. He had begun the trek out of the castle when he collided with Remus, who steadied him with uncommon strength for someone so frail, werewolf or no.<p>

"Beg your pardon, sir."

"It's nothing, Mr. Longbottom." The werewolf eyed him, then looked toward the doors he'd just entered.

"You're meaning to cross the grounds to Durmstrang's ship?"

"Yes sir."

"Allow me to accompany you." Albus nodded, biting his lip as he followed the werewolf out. He had no reason to be so jumpy, but he was again worrying – he doubted the werewolf would be able to figure out the reason the twins and Albus were at Hogwarts, but he was nevertheless set on edge by the wizard and his enhanced senses, illogically. Remus made small talk, noting the young man's subdued responses and restless eyes. It seemed everyone was on edge tonight.

"Stop, Potter – you have a visitor." The teen's rag slipped and the cauldron began to make a sharp descent, stopped by a conveniently arrived dog, who only barely returned it to its rightful place before shifting, gagging sharply.

"What the hell is that?"

"Black, you shouldn't put just anything within head's reach of you in your mouth – you could have simply shifted and caught it with your _hands_, idiot..." The cauldrons disappeared, and the Potions Master swept out, leaving a stunned Harry and grumbling Sirius to themselves.

"I – Sirius!" His godfather's attention was soon diverted from cursing the Slytherin professor to his godson, who stared at him with a mixture of awe and delight.

"What's up, kiddo? Miss me?" He managed to cut off a yelp when the small teen flung himself at him, hugging him furiously.

"What about the Ministry? And why is Snape helping you? What-"

"Whoa, whoa! What a minute, kid – give a man a chance to catch his breath, right?" The Gryffindor blushed and nodded, smiling brightly at the man's chuckle.

"Snape is helping me because Dumbledore told him to-"

"Go figure."

"-the Ministry isn't going to find out I'm here _because _Snape is helping me, and you have a newt liver in your hair." The boy squawked, frantically batting at his hair, ignoring his godfather's laughter. The offending organ was tossed from his hair and his hair cleansed with several likely overpowered cleaning spells while the Animagus continued to laugh at the fourteen year old's plight.

"Thanks for nothing, Siri!" Sirius sobered, hugging his godson again.

"So, how are you?"

"Tired – relieved that it's all going to be over soon." He grinned up at the Animagus, who nodded, searching his eyes for something.

"So – Cedric Diggory, huh?" He smirked at the immediate spread of crimson across Harry's face.

"Well-I, yeah, we-uh-" Harry began to panic – it had never crossed his mind that Sirius would have heard about that (stupidly, it wasn't like Sirius had no access to the news), and he hadn't a clue how the Wizarding World usually responded to homosexuality.

"Calm down, kid – it's not like I care; it would be hypocritical of me to disown you over something so trivial." Harry thought he might have followed that comment up with a mutter about his family, but was distracted by the next question.

"Busy year, then? I heard you made new friends – Evans twins, Longbottom's cousin?" If Harry were anyone else, he might have realised he was being not-so-subtly interrogated, but he was who he was, and responded, "Yeah – Amelia Lucifer, Azrael Lucas, and Albus Octavian."

"Sound pureblooded."

"They aren't – Lucy and Azrael's parents are a pureblood and a half-blood, and Alby's are a pureblood and a Muggleborn." Sirius began to ask another question when his earlier comment finally registered fully with Harry.

"Wait, hypocritical – you're gay?"

"Mm-hmm." He chuckled at the teen's expression, and teasingly closed his mouth.

"It's not a big deal, Harry – not for me, anyway; some pureblooded family's might raise a stink, but since you're not pureblooded, it's not relevant." He shrugged, knowing full well that Harry was now putting two and two together – he needed it to almost be spelled out for him to get it, but he was bright enough to realise Sirius and Remus were in a relationship.

"Oh. Well." The Animagus snorted at his lame response, hugging him again.

"Black, Potter has a long day ahead of him – kindly escort him back to the Tower."

"It amazes me that his sarcasm isn't corrosive," muttered Sirius, shifting and nudging Harry to the door. He did as the snarky Potions Master asked, sparing a moment to greet Ron and Hermione, before bounding back to the Great Hall, where Remus was waiting, looking lost in thought. They were crossing the grounds when Remus spoke up.

"I met Albus Longbottom." Sirius looked up in surprise, and the werewolf nodded.

"He seemed – worried. I'm not sure if he knew of my condition and was responding to fear, or if something else had him preoccupied. It was odd." The dog snorted, and Remus shrugged.

"I think he and the twins are harbouring a great many secrets of their own, but I have a feeling we won't learn of them unless something drastic happens. Albus is only human – for all of his seeming omniscience and power, he is as fallible as the rest of us. Perhaps he feels guilty for Lily and James's deaths – and if so, the twins are capitalizing on that guilt. They could very well be a danger to Harry." He looked down at the sullen Animagus and said, "I take it Severus cut your interview short." Sirius barked a short affirmative, and the werewolf sighed.

"Well – the year's almost over. We'll have time enough to investigate soon."

* * *

><p>Harry batted his quill back and forth, chewing his bottom lip furiously as he considered the maze. A maze – easy to get lost in and no doubt full of creatures untold. Ron, not looking up from his game, reached over and stilled Harry's fidgeting for the fifth time in half an hour.<p>

"It'll be over before you know it, mate." The brunette groaned and dropped his head against the table with a thunk, ignoring Hermione's scolding glare.

"Have you seen the twins lately?" she finally asked, trying to distract him from his worries.

"No," came the muffled reply, before Harry turned his head to her.

"Think they're part of the task?"

"I doubt it – maybe one of the Slytherins know where they are..."

"Merlin, never would have thought we'd be talking to Slytherins." Hermione frowned at Ron, who, surprise surprise, ignored her.

"Well, Viktor was with Albus when I last saw him," she commented, ignoring Ron's muttering about Viktor, "and they weren't with him. I saw Malfoy earlier, and they weren't with him either."

"What're they always in the library for, 'Mione? Seems like if they're not with us, that's where they are."

"I don't know, Ron. I've seen a few of the books, and they've all been about time magic. Albus always says it's research for Professor Snape-"

"Because that makes sense," muttered Harry belligerently.

"-and the twins never explain, just shrug and smile and say it's an interesting subject." She looked at the two wizards, who shrugged in unison – she was the logical one, not them. She shook her head at their unhelpfulness and returned to mulling on it.

* * *

><p>Albus was again in the library – but for once, he wasn't researching anything, but instead spying on one Alastor Moody.<p>

The man was suspicious; it wasn't just that he was an ex-Auror (or in forced retirement, or on 'vacation', depending on the story) and slightly (or completely) mad, but that his behaviour was – _off. _His interest in Harry was proving baffling; not based on his acquaintance with his parents, not based on his status or skill as Boy-Who-Lived, and entirely connected to the Tournament itself. And that flask! There was nothing to be had for it; it just wasn't right. He'd once brought it up with Azrael, who'd laughed and said it was probably Firewhiskey or maybe liquid luck – said he'd need it to take up the position as DADA professor during these years. Albus didn't think so – Mad-Eye never smelled of alcohol, and didn't seem exceptionally lucky, either. There was also the matter of the missing Potions ingredients, but the likelihood of Mad-Eye having anything to do with that seemed slim at best – yes, the idea seemed entirely preposterous, and because it was, it kept coming back to him. The professor clunked out of the library, and Albus relaxed, exhaling loudly.

"Damn it..." The final task was tonight, Lucifer was still something of a wreck, Azrael was distracted by his sister's condition and his friend's odd behaviour, and everyone seemed so calm – yet there was a scent in the air, an acrid stench that couldn't be attested to anything Albus could think of. He sighed and dragged himself to his feet, trudging out of the library to find the twins.

He eventually found Azrael with the Slytherins, but still couldn't find Lucifer at all.

"Az, where's Lucy?"

"She said she wasn't feeling well and stayed in the Tower."

"Hermione's been in the Tower all day and can't find her." Azrael stirred, eyes narrowed. Draco looked between them, then asked, "Has she been with Fleur? They were talking earlier this week about getting permission to go to Hogsmeade to send a few letters internationally for Fleur."

"No one's seen her all day."

"Damn; she wasn't in the library, she's not in the Tower, she's not _here-_"

"Have you tried Trelawny's room?" Albus stared at Pansy, who shrugged.

"She mentioned she was interested in Divination."

"Weird." Albus silently agreed with Azrael – why was Lucifer suddenly looking into Divination?

* * *

><p>The third task arrived amidst fanfare and cheering; the champions surrounded Dumbledore, and Harry found himself spacing out a little until Cedric, who was standing behind him, arms around his shoulders, flicked his ear gently, bringing him back to reality. Fleur had an arm around his waist, and even Viktor had joined the 'use Harry as a support while listening to the rules' moment, resting a hand on his shoulder. Rita Skeeter, in a moment of humanity, caught the oddly affectionate moment between the champions, but never published the photo – though Lucifer and Azrael knew, years later, she'd send it to Harry, who kept it in the kitchen of their home. The moment was ended all too soon, and Azrael watched with dread as Harry entered the maze with Cedric, disappearing into the gloom without a backward glance.<p>

Lucifer sat beside him, fingers curled around the edge of the bleacher seat as she fought to contain herself. Albus too was on edge, but for another reason entirely.

"I need to get his flask."

"Albus, leave off the flask! It's not important!"

"Azrael, I _know _it is – I don't know why, I just know it is!" Lucifer gritted her teeth some at their bickering – someone was about to _die_, and they were worried about some stupid flask!

"You don't have to help, but I'm going to get that damn flask," snapped Albus, slipping from his seat and easing away from them.

"Alby, damn it, come back! That idiot..."

"Leave it be, Azrael. He'll be back in no time..."

* * *

><p>Hermione noticed her new friends' agitation, and was puzzled by it – at first, she'd assumed it was merely sympathy nerves over the task, but now she wasn't so sure.<p>

"Ron, why do you think the twins are so nervous?" Ron shrugged, watching the shrubs and hedges sway and creak – this was dull as hell right now.

"Maybe they're just worried for Harry."

"I guess so..." She let her eyes wander over the crowd, noticing Cho Chang waving a weird tri-colour flag meant to represent Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, presumably, and the Slytherins with their extra motley support groups, ranging from all four champions, thought predominately they seemed to support Viktor. The professors mirrored this trend (thought unsurprisingly Professor Snape was as dour as ever, and showed no such support), and – what was Albus doing?

"Ron!"

"Is he trying to steal Mad-Eye's flask? Is he-"

"Don't," she snapped, stopping him from the inevitable pun. They watched in awe as Albus removed the flask with impossible skill, examined it, and replaced it, easing away from the professors. He doubled back seconds later and made as if trying to talk to Snape, before the two disappeared.

"What on earth..."

* * *

><p>"What, Mr. Longbottom?"<p>

"Professor, Mad-Eye's drinking Polyjuice Potion – he's the one who's been stealing from the stores!" The Slytherin stared at him, eyes narrowed.

"What proof-"

"I _smelled _it, alright? Damn it, there's no other explanation!" Severus ignored his swearing, asking, "But who is he then?"

"I don't _know_, Professor-"

"Alby! What the hell-"

"Mad-Eye isn't Mad-Eye at all! He's been drinking Polyjuice!" The twins skidded to a halt and inhaled sharply.

"No – no, no-" Severus stared in alarm, startled by their vehement reaction, before understanding dawned on him with a particularly intense flare from his Mark.

"Impossible-"

"Shite! Lucifer, Karkaroff!" Albus and Severus both responded a moment too slowly as the twins broke into a run, disappearing.

"What-"

"We must follow!"

* * *

><p>The twins dragged Karkaroff from the maze, sparing no time for a confused Fleur who had just been pulled from the maze.<p>

"Karkaroff! Take us to the graveyard, _now_." Azrael remembered the story Harry had once told them as a fabrication, and remembered Draco's worry about telling them about what had been such a traumatic event for Harry. The details had been vague or overblown, but they nevertheless knew what had to be happening now – Cedric and Harry were in the graveyard, and they had mere moments to help them. Durmstrang's headmaster's eyes bulged in horror at their demand, and he immediately began to blabber about not knowing what they were talking about, when Azrael's cypress wand was pressed right between his eyes.

"Do it _now_, Karkaroff – this is life and death, and be assured, _your _life is secondary to _theirs_." The man panicked and grabbed them, side-Apparating them into the graveyard before disappearing with a crack.

"Fuck. He left-"

"_Avada Kedarva!_"

"Cedric! _No!_" Azrael paled, knuckles going white as he clutched his wand.

"We're too late..." They moved forward in unison, inching closer to where the horror was unfolding, watching as the Dark Lord they'd never known regenerated in smoke and bile, the foul stench permeating the air as he summoned those few Death Eaters loyal enough to come to him. They weren't close enough to hear, but they could clearly see what was happening, and silently memorized each face as they saw it, until the final mask was pulled away.

"Oh, shite, shite, shite."

"Grandfather..." Perhaps in their shock they were frozen for longer than they thought; perhaps the events occurred faster than they could have believed. However, what was clear was that suddenly Voldemort was screaming curses, Harry was just screaming, and their terror froze them in place. The 'duel' commenced and froze – it was as if the dynamic nature of the world had been paralyzed, and everything had become static with Voldemort's renewed evil. Then it ended – a frenzy of motion and fury, a flash and crack, and Harry was gone.

They, however, were still there.

* * *

><p>"Headmaster!" Dumbledore turned from Poppy, who was tending the stunned Gryffindor. Barty Crouch Jr. had been taken into custody mere moments ago, but Severus's expression told him more was at stake than before.<p>

"Severus-"

"Karkaroff took the Evans twins to the Dark Lord! They're still there!" The Headmaster froze, what little colour that had been in his face draining away.

"Impossible-"

"I must retrieve them."

"Severus, what of Voldemort?"

"He will be pleased I found time to arrive at all," hissed the other man, his agitation affecting even the pale, silent teen beside him. As if seeing Albus snapped him from his horrified stupor, Dumbledore nodded sharply, beckoning to the teen.

"Go, Severus. Albus, my boy – if you would find Mr. Potter's friends, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley."

* * *

><p>Lucius started when Severus appeared, one pale eyebrow rising.<p>

"Severus? What-"

"The Dark Lord?"

"I am here, Severus." He felt cold and pain run through him, and quickly forced the remembered agony away, turning and bowing slowly to the reborn Dark Lord. Voldemort's pale hand rested on his shoulder, his voice harsh – he was angry, but the return of one of his most loyal servants appeased him briefly.

"Severus – that you have come is a great relief to me. I had feared Dumbledore would retain your services."

"I remain at Hogwarts, my lord – but with your return, it seems my services as a 'spy' will be renewed." He put heavy irony in the word 'spy', and knew without looking up that Voldemort was probably smiling – or his closest approximation of a smile.

"Your loyalty is the image in which my Death Eaters shall remake themselves," hissed the Dark Lord, lifting his hand in a silent signal for the man to rise.

"Return to the Light, then, Severus." The man bowed again and waited for Lucius and Voldemort to pass him before he began to search for the twins. To his relief and horror, he found them mere feet away, pressed to the back of the grave, eyes wide.

"You _fools. _What were you _thinking_? If he had seen you-" He stopped short, gauging their lack of reaction with alarm. He pulled them to their feet and side-Apparated into Hogsmeade, then Floo'd into the Headmaster's office, where Dumbledore waited.

"Severus-" His voice or perhaps the new surroundings snapped them from their daze, and suddenly both twins clamored around the two wizards, questions overlapping and drowning out one another.

"Be at peace, both of you; Mr. Potter is fine, though lamentably Cedric Diggory has left us." The words were meant to be comforting, they were sure, but it snapped them to reality again, and horror took root. Sensing their pain and fear, the Headmaster moved forward, resting on hand on each twin's shoulder.

"You must rest – you have had a trial. Go, go." Severus began to lead them out, when Lucifer snatched away from him, stumbling a little. Azrael caught her, eyes glittering with emotion

"We-we could have helped-could have stopped him – how did this _happen_?" His voice cracked, and Severus found himself flinching at the desperate stares leveled on him. He was spared from speaking when Draco rounded the corner, breaking with his usual icy facade to run to the twins and pull them into a tight hug.

"Gods – what _happened_? Cedric-"

"Is dead. We know," Lucifer murmured dully, hugging Draco back just as tightly. Severus sensed their need for each other's companionship, and made himself scarce, absently filing away their reaction to Draco without realising it. The Malfoy heir, once he was convinced of their mutual health, led them to the Hospital Wing, where he left them, disappearing himself. Ron and Hermione had left after Pomfrey threw them out twice, leaving the twins alone with a shell-shocked Harry. They flanked him, seated on either side of his bed.

"Harry?" Azrael whispered, taking one of his hands in his own. Green eyes fluttered open, and Harry's expression softened, the wizard looking incredibly fragile with the dried tear stains down his grimy face and no few abrasions besides.

"Hey, guys..." He stared at them, then swallowed convulsively, eyes glowing with more tears.

"He's really gone, isn't he?"

There were no words.

* * *

><p>AN: And there really aren't, are there? Well, this seems...off to me. I started on one tangent, finished on another. I don't think I mentioned this, but this fic will be going through seventh year. -eheh- -sweatdrop- So. Review, because...well, why do people USUALLY ask for reviews?

Forgive me if Sev seems especially OOC. -eeeergh-


	6. Chapter 6

The end of the year seemed bleaker than usual for all parties. Though the school was in mourning for Cedric, it was short-lived with the rumours that boiled throughout the Wizarding World.

Lord Voldemort had returned.

This was all good and well (well...not _good and well_,), but a more immediate crisis faced the twins.

"Where are you going for the summer?"

"Draco offered to let us stay with him...but we're not entirely sure that's prudent," muttered Azrael, eyes locked on the ground. Lucifer snorted, nodding.

"Alby's probably going to Bulgaria with Viktor-"

"Really?"

"Yes, Ron, really." The redhead shrugged, and Azrael rolled his eyes, continuing, "So we're a little...worried."

"Neville will probably take you in," suggested Harry. Lucifer looked at him questioningly.

"What about you? Could we stay with you?" Harry paled and stammered something largely incoherent.

"I beg your pardon?" Harry groaned.

"I – I live with my mum's family – Muggles." The twins continued to stare, and he flushed with shame.

"They hate everything magical," he muttered finally, folding his arms.

"They wouldn't let you stay even if I wanted to help you." Ron suddenly stirred.

"You can stay with us – that is, my family. There's not much room, but Mum won't mind." Azrael ducked his head to cover his blanch of horror; Lucifer stared at Ron with a mixture of grudging gratitude and disgust.

"Um-"

"Marvelous idea, Mr. Weasley." Damn twinkly old man! The twins both twitched at his voice and straightened, eyes locked on those infuriating twinkling eyes.

"Really, Headmaster? They can stay with us?" Ron nodded to Albus.

"If it doesn't work out with Krum, you're welcome to come as well." The older redhead nodded slowly, visibly hesitant. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Mr. Weasley, since you've so graciously offered your home to the homeless, I will inform Molly for you." Ron's ears turned a shade of red that even outdid his hair, stunningly. Harry muffled a cackle even as he noticed a group disappearing out of the castle – the Slytherins they'd formed a wobbly friendship with. He watched them retreat, far from the mass of students from the other three Houses, and when he saw Draco turn, likely by chance, waved hesitantly. For an awful moment, he thought he'd receive, at most, a sneer or even a rude gesture, but the blonde simply nodded and went on his way.

"Harry!" He started and groaned internally – he was going to be reamed for not paying attention, _again_. He steeled himself for the inevitable lecture.

"Are you alright, mate?" He blinked, relaxing abruptly.

"I'm fine, Ron...Tired, I guess." Hermione clicked her tongue with concern, ignoring the shorter boy's grimace.

"Well," she looked at the twins, "see you at the Burrow?" The two shared a look, and nodded. Where else did they have to go?

* * *

><p>Albus was relieved, not for the first time, that he knew wards enough to protect his potions when a particularly piqued Lucifer made her way into the room he shared with Azrael – again. He let Azrael handle it this time; Severus was having him try Wolfsbane for the first time – literally, since he'd never even fathomed attempting it in their time.<p>

"Luc, what-"

"Do you know why we haven't received any letters from Father?" In the safety of their (likely overabundant) wards, she didn't bother referring to him by name. Azrael eyed her warily.

"No, I haven't the foggiest – I presume you do, however," he replied, returning to the text in his lap.

"This_ – Order of the Phoenix_," her voice all but dripped venomous disdain, "is cutting off all post to him! He's just lost his boyfriend-"

"They weren't officially dating," murmured Albus.

"-and has been through a traumatic event besides that! This can't be allowed!"

"Have Hermione and Ron tried to do anything about it?" asked Azrael finally, a little in awe of his sister's indignation.

"_No_, they haven't!" she cried, throwing her hands up in a generally comical motion. Albus rubbed his temples, struggling against the headache that would inevitably occur with too much Lucifer-induced sound.

"Luc," he snapped, "if you're just going to yell about it, do it _elsewhere._" He glowered at the startled witch, who huffed and stomped out, leaving Azrael to stare helplessly after her.

"That was harsh, Alb," he said, closing his book.

"She's just worried about Father." The redhead swallowed hard and muttered, "I suppose you want me to apologise." The other wizard placed the book aside, rising.

"It doesn't matter what I want, does it?" he asked in parting, leaving his friend to alternately sulk and worry.

* * *

><p>That was how Ron found him more than an hour later, the finished Wolfsbane bottled and stowed until he next saw the Potions Master, presumably when they went to the Order's headquarters.<p>

"Done already?" he asked, obviously unconcerned. Albus snorted and nodded, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed.

"Why the long face then?"

"I think I pissed off the twins."

"My twins or your twins?" Albus laughed; he doubted either pair would appreciate being thought of as objects to be owned.

"Azrael and Lucifer," he replied, picking at the sheet, "are concerned about Harry." Ron's face darkened, and he sighed, sitting next to the shorter male.

"We all are – but I guess they're trying to do something about it, right?" Albus nodded, and Ron snorted.

"Mum'll lose it if they try to leave." Albus shrugged, fighting the urge to fidget. He'd been studiously avoiding Ron since they'd arrived – he'd practically made it an art form, considering how small the Burrow was. Perhaps the twins could overcome, to some degree, their displeasure (to put it lightly) with the redhead, but Albus had lived with him all his life, and had lost his mother to him – the idea of him being anything other than a scheming bastard was, frankly, inconceivable to him. Too his surprise, the other redhead rose and began to rummage through one of the drawers the two guests weren't using.

"Well – if you all want to get out alive and see Harry, we'll need a diversion. You'll go tell Mum you need more Potions ingredients. She'll argue with you about it, but you might be able to convince her. If that's the case, we'll use plan A; the twins'll sneak off while in Diagon Alley, and we'll keep Mum looking in all the wrong places. If you can't convince her, plan B; Fred 'n George."

"Beg pardon?" The redhead merely smirked and pulled him to his feet, shooing him to the door.

"Go on – we'll know when the time comes what to do."

* * *

><p>Harry was mid-letter when the door banged open and a (per usual) furious Vernon hurled two people into his room. Only Harry's Seeker-honed reflexes and recognition of that star-bright hair kept the Muggle from being brought low by several likely nasty hexes from the Evans twins. A few incomprehensible bellows later, and the door was locked behind him, leaving him with sheepish twins and a pile of (still) unanswered letters. He put his quill down and leveled a questioning stare on them, furthering the sheepish blushes from both twins.<p>

"Well," he said, stretching some, "would you like to explain exactly what brought you here? I think I can guess, but I'd like to hear your reasoning." He also wanted to know why the wards hadn't sparked as they would for anyone cleared but not related to him. Lucifer shuffled her feet and coughed, eyes flicking to her twin, who snorted and folded his arms.

"This was _your _idea." The blonde girl winced and bit her lip, smiling hesitantly at Harry, who, despite being several inches shorter and quite in bit smaller in build, managed to seem to loom.

_Must be taking lessons from Sev. _She barely covered a snort and said, "We learned Dumbledore was funneling post away from you, so we thought we'd come see you – after the end of the Tournament and all..." Harry's face fell and she mentally berated herself, scrambling to stop him from shutting down.

"But you _have _been getting post somehow, so I guess the point is moot!" Azrael slid around the brunette and picked up the letter he'd been responding to.

"Who is writing you? And how are you getting mail anyway?" Harry moved to take the letter back and found himself struggling to reach it as the taller blonde held it above his head, still reading.

"No one-"

"Who the hell is Snuffles? Oh, right – Sirius Black."

"Az!"

"But he's been busy, I know that – so all of these can't be from him. I do believe I see Professor Snape's handwriting – fascinating, but it could merely be homework related. So who-"

"Azrael, _please_-"

"Well, well, well – I recognise _this_ handwriting as well," he drawled, smirking at the furiously blushing Gryffindor wizard.

"Darling sister of mine, do you recognise this particular handwriting?" Lucifer leaned over Harry, examining the letter with sparkling green eyes.

"Why, _yes, _brother dearest, I do!" She took it from him, waving it mockingly at Harry.

"Tell me, Harry dear, since when are you on first name basis with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry silently cursed and blessed the twins' abrupt arrival; while writing to Draco had proven a novel and altogether fascinating experience, he still missed having people around. Finally he snatched the letter from Lucifer and stuffed it into the compartment in his trunk with its fellows, still blushing.

"Yeah, well – it's a new thing, okay?" Azrael shrugged, examining the small room, eyes falling to the bars on the window.

"What, exactly, are those doing there?" Harry froze, recognising the rarely used tone; he knew it from personal experience – it certainly sounded enough like him when he was about to snap.

"My uncle was having – um-" He stumbled over his words, wracking his brain for an excuse, when his door banged open and his aunt made herself known, lips pressed into a line so thin they essentially disappeared into her face.

"Take your – _friends_ to the park and get rid of them," she hissed, eyes darting between the blondes. Harry bit his lip and quickly stowed the rest of his things, pulling the twins after him. Before he could accomplish the feat of getting them out of the house without one or both of them inviting the Dursleys' wrath, Lucifer snatched away from him and turned to Petunia, eyes narrowed.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Dursley," she sniped, hands on her hips.

"Thank you for your _gracious _welcome into your home – we know it was unexpected for us to _drop in_ so suddenly. My name is Amelia Evans," she dropped her middle name, knowing full well her last would do wonders without it, "and this is my twin, Lucas Evans. I hope you don't mind, we've missed your nephew so much!" Petunia had gone paler than any of her immaculate sheets, eyes round in her narrow face. Lucifer flipped her hair over her shoulder and offered her an icy, barely civil smile before stalking out ahead of the boys, who hastened to follow her. Harry stopped to grab his wand and the spare house key, leaving Azrael to round on his sister.

"What the _hell_, Lucifer? You _know _she's our grandmother's sister! She would recognise our eyes without the name!"

"She pissed me off." Azrael exhaled loudly, nodding defeatedly.

"Well – we know why Father never talks about his family...I don't think Pater even knows about this." Harry returned at that moment, and both twins fell silent. They followed him to the park and settled, quietly discussing their summers thus far.

"So, I repeat, since we were so rudely interrupted – how have you been getting mail?" The brunette pushed his unruly fringe from his eyes, smiling a little.

"Professor Snape's been smuggling mail from Sirius; he asked Draco to write to me, and has been writing himself – generally homework related, but he's still been writing, so..." He shrugged, ignoring the amazed glances between the twins. They knew their father hadn't gotten along with Severus – to put it lightly, the relationship was volatile. They hadn't come to terms with one another in their time until the twins were toddlers.

"...Wow." Harry rolled his eyes at Lucifer's awed tone, punching her gently in the arm.

"Whatever, Lu. It's not big deal. Look," he nodded to a strangely inconspicuous figure in black, "your ride." Both twins snorted, then paused, reality dawning on them – Severus was going to be less than pleased.

"Shite." The shadowed figure strolled over, and both blondes felt their stomachs plummet. He was _strolling_. They were seriously dead.

"Amelia, Azrael," _Dead_. Severus raised an eyebrow at their ashen faces, then nodded stiffly to Harry, who waved cheekily.

"Well, brat, how did they get in?" Now the teen blinked and cocked his head in question.

"Sir?"

"They aren't cleared to pass the wards, Harry." The twins were either unconcerned or uninformed about to wards, but quickly regressed to fearful apprehension when the Potions Master turned his eyes to them.

"...Well?" They both flinched, and Azrael spoke.

"Wards, sir? We just...walked in." The dour man's eyebrows drew together, and he muttered something inaudible to the teens, before shaking his head.

"Very well. We are returning to the Weasleys now. _You_ will continue your studies and keep your head down," he instructed Harry sharply, receiving a nod in acquiescence.

"This way."

* * *

><p>They had traveled some ways away when Lucifer began to complain of the cold and buzzing in her ears. Azrael chewed his lower lip as her complaints began to grate, until he realised she was getting quieter, and slower – she was several feet behind them. He stopped, and his abrupt freeze stopped Severus, who looked over his shoulder in confusion.<p>

"What-"

"Lu, what's wrong? Luc?" She stared into space, eyes glittering with unknown emotion. Azrael moved closer, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Luc?"

"Cold...so cold..." Then the screaming began. Perhaps some otherworldly force intervened, for Severus should have been able to grab both twins and side-Apparate to Headquarters, but he had no such luck. Azrael had barely touched the ground before he was demanding to go back. 'Demanding' was a light way to put it – he was distraught at best, and terrified for his sister.

"We have to go back – let _go_, damn it, she still back there-" The Potions Master again restrained him, wincing as the teenage wizard's magic prickled and writhed beneath his skin.

"Mr. Evans – Azrael! Calm down!"

"She is _out there _with _Dementors _and can't perform magic because of that stupid fucking statute-"

"Which is meant to protect you and those around you. Cease, boy! I will not leave your twin – now stay. Here. You cannot simply rush into this without thinking!" Azrael stared at him helplessly and Severus swore at the small part of him that twisted at the boy's fear for his sister. He knew, however, that there was nothing they could do – save wait.

* * *

><p>Lucifer stumbled and slammed into the ground, barely managing to stifle a sob of pain before levering herself up and half limping, half running, to where her father and his cousin were flanked by Dementors.<p>

"Harry," she slurred, wincing as the world tilted and grew hazy, "we have to get back to your house-" Neither she nor Harry could speak in the moment they arrived. Panic made her blood thunder in her ears as the wraiths descended on the two boys. Stumbling back, she groped for her wand and barely freed the six inches of juniper before the first Patronus hurtled into and through the Dementors, but by some sick twist of fate the second dodged. The stag turned as if to make another charge, but shied to the side as the Great Dane sized jackalope bounded through, leaping over him before disappearing entirely. The stag dissolved, and both witch and wizard relaxed.

"We have to get Dudley home," mumbled Harry, struggling over to his cousin.

"Come on, Big D – get up." The two smaller teens heaved the Muggle to his feet and struggled to support his bulk, herding him awkwardly, when Harry froze, almost causing Lucifer to fall.

"What-"

"Mrs. Figg?"

* * *

><p>The old Squib led them back to Privet Drive and shooed them in, mumbling about how odd the events were. Lucifer stayed close to Harry, practically plastered to his back as his aunt and uncle turned their attention to them. Lucifer's eyes strayed from the simpering woman and her hideous husband, falling to the pictures scattered about the room, eyes narrowing. There was no sign Harry lived here – many images of his cousin, but none of him... A fluttering sound and soft cry brought her attention away from her growing anger to the small, efficient owl that, having delivered a dark, sparse envelope with its Ministry seal, flew off with the same clipped wing beats it had arrived on. With similar efficiency, the Howler unfolded and lifted with a sharp snap, twirling to Harry. Genial female tones gently and softly expelled Harry and went silent with a courteous adieu before the Howler snapped shut. Lucifer gaped at the docile envelope, sensing her father's pain and his uncle's gloating. The shift in the air was subtle; the Muggles did not sense it, but the wrath of magic shifted and writhed. Harry only barely realised that it was not him.<p>

"Well – you'd better get your _precious Dudley _to the hospital before he perishes," sneered the brunette wizard, trying for venom and producing a weak, hazy mockery. A mixture of humane concern for his cousin, worry that Lucy's temper would not be held, and confusion as to the appearance of the Dementors battled for his attention as he stared helplessly at his relatives. Finally the crackling of the air and the natural tension drove them out, leaving him to his uninvited guest. Lucifer hadn't moved, eyes locked on the mantle.

"Lucifer-" The wards buzzed and sparked; he started, not expecting the sensation. Not thinking, he dragged Lucifer up the stairs to his small room, already leveling his wand on it.

"Harry, Professor Snape said-"

"Boy, if you don't lower your wand this instant!" Harry smothered a snort and did as he was told, backing up some as Moody clumped in and Azrael hurtled in, all but tackling Lucifer.

"You stupid, reckless, foolish, _insane_ woman! Don't ever, _ever _do something so impossibly dangerous again!" Lucifer didn't quite manage to comment – it wasn't technically her fault – before he launched further into his angry tirade.

"How do you think I would have felt if you were gone? How do you think Alby would have felt? How do think our _fathers _would have felt! Why, _why _didn't you hold on to us – what the _hell _were you thinking!" She opened her mouth to speak and was immediately, unsurprisingly, cut off.

"Amelia Lucifer Evans! How _could _you scare me like that!" To the instant and complete mortification of his sister, Azrael burst into tears, clinging to her. Even Moody looked uncomfortable, when someone coughed and said, "Hey, kid – let's save the waterworks for later and get Harry out of here, yeah?" Azrael pulled away and produced a frilly handkerchief, dabbing at his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry – you must be eager to leave. Thank you for reminding me, Nymphadora." The woman grimaced, her bright mohawk bobbing as she nodding sharply. Harry looked questioningly at Moody, who grumpily explained what was going on.

"A trial?" he asked, confused.

"But I've been expelled."

"Dumbledore's got pull in the Ministry – not much, but some. He arranged it," muttered Moody, clumping out of the house. The others hastened to follow, listening to Moody's sharp orders to stay in formation regardless of anything, and at once took off.

* * *

><p>In flight, Harry could truly think; in a Quidditch game, his thoughts, clear and focused, were on the Snitch. Now, he let his mind wander to the gathered witches and wizards, new and old, and the circumstances that had brought them to that moment. It was bizarre; would this have been commonplace if his parents had lived? Would he still be training to destroy a Dark Wizard of almost unrivaled power? He would not have lived with the Dursleys; he would have known the Malfoys and the Weasleys, or known of them, from an early age. He doubted he'd have befriended Draco Malfoy even if his parents <em>had <em>lived and he'd been raised in the Wizarding World. His parents were members of the Order, and if anything, the Malfoys were firm supporters of the Dark, if not Voldemort specifically.

Now his thoughts turned to Azrael and Lucifer; named for the archangel of Death and Prince of Hell, once God's most beloved angel. Bizarre name choices. Their initials were the same; A.L.E. Amelia and Azrael, Lucas and Lucifer. Odd, as if meant to offset each other's angelic nomen, so simple and even mundane. But they both went by those archangel namesakes. Were they sent here, without memory, from another, perhaps divine, source, to assist or hinder the mortal world? That seemed unlikely, but once Harry had thought things such as dragons and flying brooms impossible – who was he to name that which was likely and unlikely?

The journey ended sooner than he had expected, and he found himself in the dark halls of the aptly named Grimmauld Place – very grim, probably old, and certainly quite foreboding, once one ignored the shrieking portrait. That was just ridiculous and irritating. Finally, realization of reality crashed down on him, and anger he hadn't expected made itself known. He rounded on his saviours, but was cut off by a well-timed ambush by his exuberant godfather, followed by the ever dour Potions Master (was he smirking? He was smirking! Damn it, they probably planned this together! Why was he angry again?).

"Harry! What happened, is everything okay?" Again, reality chose to make itself known, and Harry's stomach dropped.

"I've...been expelled from Hogwarts," he replied numbly, staring up into Sirius's astonished eyes.

"I've been expelled from Hogwarts..."

* * *

><p>AN: This is obscenely short. But the fic itself is promising to be longish - going through seventh year with a possible epilogue. D: Mah BRAIN. I'm being yelled at to go to bed, so read, review, yadda yadda yadda. I'll get them to the trial/Hogwarts next chapter, probably. Don't quote me on that. THE PLOT AND EXPLANATIONS AS TO WHAT HAPPENED TO RON AND HERMIONE WILL BE FURTHER REVEALED AS THE STORY CONTINUES. DON'T HARANGUE ME BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON WITH RON. THAT'S HOW IT'S MEANT TO BE. Yeesh. I need to chill. Peace - review.


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